


In the Colonel's Care

by Manuflipt



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 81,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuflipt/pseuds/Manuflipt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christopher Simmons is ringing in the new year: 2015. A bizarre event throws him into 24th century adventure on Deep Space Nine. Takes place after WYLB. I have finished (as of 3/27/17)  a third revision of this story. Please enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Livin' the Dream

**Chapter One: Livin' the Dream**

Christopher Simmons slouches on a second-hand couch. Light from an old television flickers through the darkened room as his face warps with disgust.

_These people are freaking nuts._

Multiple feeds show countless ecstatic smiles and those stupid 2015 glasses. The crowd seems thrilled to be packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the bitter cold of December.

“Where do they find these people?”

Chris doesn't mind the large 'MUTE' notice in the corner of his screen. It’s better than hearing sickening cheers, strained commentary, and pre-recorded music numbers that famous faces pretend to perform. The entire New Year’s charade annoys him. He wouldn't be watching at all except for a personal need to see the ball drop. Witnessing the end of 2014, despite the pure symbolism, affirms that the worst mess of his life is officially behind him.

_Last year. I can say it happened last year._

Throwing his head back, Chris coaxes the last stubborn drops from a beer bottle. As he does, headlights passing beyond his window create a dramatic scene on the ceiling above. Shadows cast by his model X-wing starfighter and Cylon Raider chase each other in a frantic dogfight.

Chris sighs as he looks around the room.

The entire apartment overflows with science fiction memorabilia. What was once littered throughout a three-bedroom house is now compressed within the walls of this 'cozy' apartment. That's how the woman at the office described it anyway: "cozy." Over a dozen models hang from the ceiling on fishing line, collectibles crowd several make-shift shelves, and posters cover the walls. In addition to Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica, there are samples from nearly every sci-fi franchise to appear on screen: Bablyon 5, Stargate, Firefly… you name it.

The couch frame creaks as Chris grunts and lifts himself to walk the short distance to the refrigerator. The brief journey takes him past autographed posters of Claudia Christian, Katee Sackhoff, and Tricia Helfer. Some of Chris' buddies give him grief for having a signed poster of Jamie Bamber nestled among science fiction’s most attractive women, but if he had to pick one man from the 'future' to become, it would be Lee Adama. Chris pops the top off a fresh bottle, tips it in a silent toast to Grace Park’s “Boomer” poster, then lumbers back to the sofa.

As he slumps back down on the couch, Chris eyes a spiral-bound notepad lying on the cushion beside him. He picks it up and sighs at the resolution list he started writing over an hour ago. The first line he’d written was "get over the…" with a final word so angrily scribbled over that it’s become unrecognizable—but he knows what he's been calling  _her_  well enough. He sighs even more heavily at the second line: "Lose 20lbs." His eyes wander from the list to the beer in his hand, the pizza box on the coffee table, and the soft bulge that hides his belt. He trades the beer for a pen and scribbles vertical lines over the “2”, changing it into a big, fat, ugly “1.”

"Let's be realistic, Chris," he mutters aloud.

Finally, the countdown partially hidden by the 'MUTE' notice flashes red. Chris fumbles for the remote to turn on the sound.

"Seven… six… five…" the revelers chant.

Chris raises his bottle of Bud Light in a toast to the screen as the ball hits bottom. The entire population of Times Square erupts in cheers amid a dense cloud of streamers and confetti.

"Happy friggin' New Year," Chris grumbles.

Chris quickly taps the remote again, replacing the display of fireworks and kissing revelers with an Xbox logo. His list all but forgotten, he sets his beer down and picks up a game controller.

* * *

 

The next morning, Chris wakes up with a start. His phone alarm vibrates the coffee table, in turn rattling three empty bottles. He struggles onto his side as the couch complains.

"Lightweight," he groans at the trio of bottles as he silences the alarm.

Chris slowly gets to his feet and stretches. A noisy yawn escapes him as he rubs his eyes. After shrugging at the mess from the night before, he trudges to the bathroom. He hopes a long, hot shower will shake the dull feeling of sleep and alcohol.

Returning to the couch, Chris slides the empty pizza box over to reveal an old laptop. He scoffs at the ancient machine.

_What a piece of crap._

Chris lifts the screen and presses the power button. He hangs his head and sighs, knowing it will be some time before the dated computer struggles to life.

Waiting for the PC to boot, Chris slowly shuffles to the kitchen. He grabs a blueberry bagel from a bag on the counter and holds it with his teeth. He turns to pull a diet soda from a fresh case purchased in anticipation of his resolution to trim down.

"That's 120 fewer calories a pop…" Chris mumbles through the bagel as he pops the can open. He pulls the bagel from his mouth and takes a sip—his face puckers. "…if I can get used to this crap."

Back at the couch, Chris nearly finishes the bagel before his work laptop's login screen appears. He glances at the Xbox controller on the coffee table and, for a moment, considers shutting the computer back off.

_They'd believe me if I said this piece of shit died on me._

Chris’ contemplation ends after weighing the consequences of sabotaging company property to sell the story.

"Alrighty then," Chris grumbles. "Let's see what other _geniuses_ got a new printer for Christmas."

Chris pauses and cocks his head.

_Have I always talked to myself, or just since the divorce?_

Chris shudders at the brief recollection of a chapter of his life he'd rather forget. He hunches over the laptop and distracts himself with work.

Having less seniority than most of the team and no family event to use as an out, Chris is stuck monitoring product support tickets over the holidays. He's immensely grateful that he doesn’t have to answer phones at the call center. It's not that he minds talking to people, but nine times out of ten someone calling the help line is either angry or stupid. Someone using the email system is typically more patient and resourceful, given that the email link is on the same page as the FAQs and self-help documentation. Chris still finds the occasional long-winded rant and ignorant question among the emails, but he firmly believes in the distinction between ignorance and stupidity.

"You can fix ignorant," Chris smirks to himself, recalling the comedy of Ron White.

After working but a handful of straightforward support tickets, Chris' buddy Mike pings him with a chat window. Mike is in the same seniority boat as Chris and is already dying for a distraction. The personalized status on Mike's chat window hasn't changed since they started working on the same team two years ago: "Livin' the Dream!"

"Hey bud,” Mike types, “have you seen Guardians of the Galaxy yet?"

"Dude, like months ago," Chris responds as he rolls his eyes.

"I just watched it yesterday. It was rad!"

"No one says 'rad' anymore, Mike."

"I don’t think anyone says 'dude' anymore either."

"At least I don't act like I just turned 21."

“Lawl,” Mike replies, adding an animated middle finger emoji. “I am so calling you ‘bro’ now.”

Mike quickly follows up with an animated GIF of the Night at the Roxbury guys doing that stupid head bob thing. Chris sighs and stops typing, hoping that Mike never actually calls him "bro" at the office.

"Anywho…" Mike continues. "Wanna meet up for lunch? I hear Phil's is catching on to the bacon-everything craze. They’ve got a new burger with bacon baked right into the bun! And you know… Phil's has the best fries."

Chris' eyes look upon the beer bottles, pizza box, and bulging gut he hopes to eliminate one day. Despite an underlying feeling of self-loathing as his eyes settle upon his resolution list with the big fat ugly one, his decision’s been made.

"That they do, Mike. I'll meet you at 11:30."

* * *

 

After handling a few more routine service requests with template responses, Chris checks the time. The old laptop may take forever to power up, but it’s quick to fall lifeless. He grabs his keys and coat on the way out of his 'cozy' apartment and steps into the cold, January air. They’d been spared the heavy snow that hit further north, but there’s still a healthy dusting of fresh powder. Chris shakes his head, knowing that a cracked and broken concrete parking lot hides underneath.

_If I don’t slip, I’ll probably trip._

Chris sweeps the dry powder from the windows of the old Honda hatchback he bought after the divorce. The engine complains when he turns the key, but the car eventually rattles to life. As the cold bucket seat soaks into him, he thinks of the new Ford Explorer with heated leather his ex got out of the deal. He shakes the thought with a growl then shifts the manual transmission into gear to head to Phil's Diner.

Traffic is relatively light being New Year's Day. Chris makes it a point to watch other drivers closely on a day like today, because you never know who’s still blitzed from the night before. More than usual though, his thoughts are pre-occupied with the divorce.

Chris eases up to a red light and allows his funk to consume his thoughts. He used to be able to say he was happy—his friends and family would say they could tell. He’s not exactly sure when things changed between him and his ex, but the relationship deteriorated at an alarming rate. Hate is not an emotion Chris has truly felt, but the same cannot be said of his ex. When it became clear that his floundering career wasn’t going to support her to her expectations, she came to despise him.

The traffic light turns green. A not-so-subtle honk lets Chris know that his thoughts have drifted for too long. The unpleasant memories and impatient driver prompt him to tighten his grip on the wheel. He scowls at the rear-view mirror as he hits the gas and releases the clutch.

Pulling forward into the intersection is the last thing Chris remembers before being taken by the light.

 


	2. Scared of the Light

**Chapter Two: Scared of the Light**

White. All Chris can see is white. He blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes in a vain effort to see anything but bright, glowing white.

_What the hell just happened?_

Disoriented and confused, Chris strains to recall what he was doing before being immersed in this disturbingly surreal environment. His left eye twitches as he vaguely remembers the roar of another car’s engine on his way to Phil’s diner.

_Was I in an accident? Is this a hospital?_

Chris sees no gurney, no doctors in white coats, no… _anything_. He stands alone in a sea of white, wearing exactly what he was while in the car. The visual spectacle surrounding him, or more accurately: the lack of one, is very unnerving. It is also _perfectly_ quiet.

_This is messed up!_

Chris stands, dumbfounded, for several moments before complete silence is broken by a faint and foreign sound. The rustling of his winter coat is almost deafening as he spins to seek the source.

"Hello?! Is someone there?!" Chris calls out.

There’s no answer. Chris finds nothing to account for the sound—only endless white. The bright void is more terrifying than pitch darkness because at least the dark would explain not being able to find the cause of the strange noise. Nothing reveals itself in the colorless expanse. As suddenly as it began, the sound fades.

_The hell was that? Why can’t I see anything?_

Doubting his own senses, Chris holds a hand in front of his face to ensure he can see at all. After staring at his brightly-illuminated digits, he extends his arm out before him. He looks to his feet to hunt for the shadow.

_What the hell?_

The surface below Chris’ feet is indistinguishable from the space around him. Not even a hint of a shadow extends beyond his dark winter hikers. Lifting a foot to expand his search only serves to trigger a spell of vertigo when only more white is revealed. He feels a slight start when his boot reconnects with a solid, yet invisible floor.

The strange sound returns. This time, it persists. It reminds Chris of a soft wind through fine leaves. There’s a hint of a high-pitched resonance, like a small wind chime in chorus with the faint rustling. Chris looks around feverishly, beginning to panic as the subtle sound from an invisible source gets louder. Unable to determine the source, he has no idea which way to go to avoid its approach.

As his heartrate crescendos, Chris feels a sharp pain in his chest. He presses a hand against the breast pocket of his heavy coat.

_Shit. This isn’t…_

Chris’ thoughts fall silent as he begins to feel dizzy. The white surrounding him darkens to gray. He falters on his feet and the gray fades to black. Suddenly… there’s nothing.

* * *

 

Benjamin Sisko stands alone in the Celestial Temple. The home of Bajor’s Prophets is now his own.

The Pah-wraiths are now contained within the Fire Caves of Bajor. Gul Dukat is facing untold horrors for failing to secure their freedom and the Book of the Kosst Amojan, the key which nearly set them free, has been destroyed. The price for this triumphant trifecta, Benjamin must abandon a mortal life among the linear beings he loves.

Benjamin just finished saying goodbye to his wife, Kasidy Yates—the mother of his unborn child. He did his best to reassure her that he’d return to her one day but, although he expressed wonder in the fact that it could be ‘yesterday’ given the nature of his new existence, he truly has no idea when he’ll see her again.

Benjamin slowly closes the hand Kasidy held as he stares at the place where her avatar stood—her consciousness now back with Jake and the others on Deep Space Nine. As he takes a deep breath and sighs, Sarah Sisko appears near the edge of his peripheral vision.

“Mother.” Benjamin’s weak smile at her arrival is tainted by the sorrow of his heartfelt goodbye. “I’m going to miss them.”

"I know,” Sarah says as she approaches to rest a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “But you are _free_ of your linear existence now. I can teach you how to visit them at any point in theirs.”

“I know, but… I can’t _share_ it with them.”

“No,” Sarah shakes her head slowly. “You cannot.”

“A linear life is all I’ve known,” Benjamin sighs. “It’s going to take… time.” The word suddenly feels peculiar. “At least… it’s good to know they’re safe.”

Sarah nods subtly. “And now your place is among us." She unfolds Benjamin’s hand and holds it in her own. Her smile falters.

Benjamin catches the uncertainty of her expression. “What’s wrong?”

Sarah dips her head slightly to one side. “ _This_ existence… was not always your fate.”

“The Dominion fleet,” Sisko closes his eyes as he recalls challenging the Prophets to ‘be gods’ or watch him lead a suicidal charge within the wormhole. The Prophets told him that a ‘penance must be exacted’. “I pushed too hard.”

“You did what you did for Bajor—to an extent.”

“For the entire _quadrant_ ,” Benjamin clarifies defensively. “And yes, I did it for Bajor too.”

Sarah nods. “I’d hoped you’d be allowed to continue your linear existence there.”

“So did I,” Benjamin looks away and frowns.

A long silence follows as the pair ponder regret. Sarah places a hand on Benjamin’s arm and gives it a comforting squeeze.

“I’d do the same… if I had it to do over again.” Benjamin’s words serve more to absolve Sarah of guilt than reaffirm his decision.

“I know you would,” Sarah says as she embraces her son. “And… you may find it hard to believe after leaving so many behind, but I know you’ll find happiness again.”

“Sarah?” Benjamin speaks her name with sudden curiosity. “There’s something that’s been bothering me about… time.”

“What, my son?”

“When I first visited the Celestial Temple, you didn't know who I was. You didn’t even _understand_ linear time, but… just now… you hinted at my future and… you’ve manipulated the _past_ to bring me here."

Sarah smiles knowingly. "You’ve clung to the belief that all of ‘us’ know each other’s thoughts.”

“Not exactly, but…”

“Even now, many of our kind are ignorant to the flow of linear events.”

“But time means nothing here,” Benjamin says as he squints at his mother. “The knowledge of even a few should propagate eventually and thus… already. Would it not?”

Sarah shakes her head. “You over-estimate the power of timelessness to overcome disinterest.”

“Other Prophets have no concept of linear time because they simply don’t care?”

Sarah shrugs. “We aren’t bound by a linear existence.”

“So why…?” Benjamin starts.

“Because it _is_ the nature of the void that separates us from the Pah-wraiths.”

Benjamin’s eyes widen briefly. “You certainly care about _them_.”

“Yes, but only _some_ of us are tasked with protecting our kind from their efforts. We have no choice but to involve ourselves in linear events as the outcasts often compel linear beings to assist them. Our approach in securing our safety is… not dissimilar.” Sarah smiles at her son.

Benjamin raises an eyebrow at the implication. “I wouldn’t say I was ‘compelled’.”

“No?”

Sarah gently places her hand against Benjamin’s cheek. He immediately recalls shattering an ancient Bajoran tablet against a wall in Deep Space Nine’s science lab that released a Prophet and Pah-wraith to initiate The Reckoning.

“I see,” Benjamin says as he places a hand over his mother’s.

“Most of our kind are completely disinterested in the affairs of linear beings. But they _do_ recognize our influence.”

“That’s why they call me ‘The Sisko’,” Benjamin smirks. “I must have your eyes.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “They recognize… purpose.”

“Purpose?”

“You’ve always been, to a small extent, nonlinear yourself. The others recognize that. They see, and appreciate, your purpose. But… they did _not_ appreciate your wielding of authority during your confrontation in the temple. _That_ is why you are here.”

“But…”

“I know,” Sarah interrupts. “Bajor _was_ threatened. But as the threat was not from the Pah-wraiths…”

“They saw it as insignificant.”

“Until your conviction convinced them otherwise,” Sarah grins.

Benjamin scoffs lightly at the memory, but Sarah’s words bring him back to his original question. “You did more than just compel me from time to time; you became my mother.”

Sarah nods. “The Pah-wraiths are rash and opportunistic, whereas we…”

“…set things in motion decades ago,” Benjamin attempts to finish her sentence. “That’s a great deal of patience.”

“It would be more accurate to consider us… meticulous. The nature of our existence doesn’t require patience. And from your perspective, we began altering events _centuries_ ago.”

“Centuries?” Benjamin is surprised by the statement. “Why?”

“We knew the Pah-wraiths would repeatedly try to counter our efforts. Setting things in motion long ago allowed our planning to be more… robust. You see, we could not simply go back again once our efforts collided with those of the Pah-wraiths—that is the nature of our conflict.”

“A paradox.”

“Call it what you wish, but starting further in the past meant fewer adjustments would be necessary to account for their interference. It gave us more opportunity to compensate.”

“Adjustments? Compensation?” Benjamin is puzzled. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Changing what beings are where, and when, to reduce the opportunities the Pah-wraiths had to move against us. Sometimes… beings were removed completely.”

Benjamin’s eyes widen. “You’re talking about ‘adjusting’ lives—and _ending_ them.”

Sarah nods. “Altering the paths of linear beings and… yes, some paths were brought to an end—like the crews of the ships you faced.”

Benjamin feels sick to his stomach at the countless lives that’ve been altered and ended to steer his fate.

Sarah furrows her brow. “My son… from your perspective, linear time is as it was always intended to be. Do not…”

“But it’s not,” Benjamin says shortly. “I’m sorry, but now that I know, it’s… it’s hard not to feel responsible.”

Sarah sighs. “I understand how you feel, but in time you will learn how fluid time is and how inconsequential linear events, and even lives, can be. Every alteration in linear time creates changes after it—some you would find truly wondrous.”

Benjamin rubs his jaw and shakes his head at the notion that he will ever consider any life inconsequential. At Sarah’s unflinching expression, he tries to imagine the enormous scale of what’s been done to manipulate his fate. Another memory surfaces.

“What about the poet?” he asks of Akorem Laan, who temporarily assumed the role of Emissary when Benjamin doubted his purpose. “He was mortally wounded when you found him in the wormhole, yet when I asked that you send him back to his time…”

Sarah looks to the ground.

“What?” Benjamin asks at her reaction. “Tell me.”

“A lot of… ‘adjustments’ were made to grant your request without altering your path.”

“I sent him back at the cost of…?”

Sarah shakes her head. “You can’t measure the consequence in lives. Where some never were, others came to be.”

Benjamin sighs. “Now I feel _directly_ responsible.”

“Son, not every alteration meant the ending of lives. Often our efforts had no impact on existing lives at all—only those that had not yet come to be. Sometimes linear beings were simply… _borrowed_ to prevent or delay the inev…”

“What, mother?” Benjamin asks after Sarah trails off.

“One borrowed life… _ended_ here.”

“Like the poet if I hadn’t asked that he be returned?”

“No. The poet, as you call him, was of Bajor. He had purpose. We would have cared for him—welcomed him among us.”

“He didn’t just happen upon the wormhole by chance, did he. You _brought_ Akorem here.”

Sarah nods.

“And this other life? The one that ended?”

“It was of no consequence to us,” Sarah shrugs.

Benjamin grunts in frustration. “Why tell me this? Why place another lost life on my conscience?”

“Not lost; it…” Sarah shrugs, “remains.”

Benjamin blinks. “I don’t follow.”

“I can show you.”

Benjamin and his mother are suddenly looking upon a human man in heavy clothing. He is frozen with an expression of pain and panic.

Benjamin is bothered by the sight. "What happened here?"

"This being was in the way of another, so we borrowed it from its linear existence. When we brought it here, it simply… stopped."

"In the way? And what do you mean by stopped?”

In answer, Sarah takes Benjamin’s hand and closes her eyes.

The two appear on a street corner. Benjamin recognizes the distinct cues of Earth. They’ve arrived either during a cold season or in a cold climate, but the time period is obviously well before his lifetime. There’s no longer any question to Sarah’s claim that his fate was set in motion centuries ago.

A harsh sound draws Benjamin’s attention to a nearby vehicle. A small one ahead of it pulls forward into the intersection. Suddenly, a dark-colored vehicle erupts from between the buildings of a side street. As Benjamin braces himself for what is sure to be a forceful impact, the small vehicle simply vanishes. The dark vehicle continues, weaving down the street.

Sarah points to the erratic vehicle. "This life would have ended. We needed it to continue. The other was irrelevant. We would have returned it, but…"

Their surroundings change again and Benjamin sees the same heavily-clothed man from before—awash in the bright white of the Celestial Temple. A wispy form of energy approaches the 'borrowed' man. Benjamin recognizes the barely perceptible cloud of energy as a Prophet in its natural state.

"Hello?! Is someone there?!" the man calls out.

The man is petrified as he searches his surroundings. He grips his chest as his breathing quickens before coming to an abrupt halt—cardiac arrest. He is now frozen in the same pose as when Benjamin first encountered him. It seems that any linear being that dies in the Celestial Temple falls into some sort of stasis.

“Why didn’t the Prophet appear to him as you first did to me—as someone familiar?” Benjamin asks, showing distress at looking upon the lifeless man.

“We had no intention of making contact,” Sarah answers. “We were preparing to send it back.”

Benjamin speaks without turning from the frozen man. "You could’ve healed him and sent him back regardless. Why not?"

When no answer follows, Benjamin turns to find an expression of indifference that disturbs him. “I assume sending him back now would require more ‘adjustments’ than with the poet’s return?”

Sarah nods slowly.

“Dammit.” Benjamin rubs his forehead with frustration and stares at the man intently.

“Since _this_ life matters to you…”

“Of course it…” Benjamin stops himself after a curious glance from Sarah reminds him of the countless Dominion lives that obviously didn’t.

“This being _could_ be sent to a time after your arrival here,” Sarah suggests softly. “No adjustments would be necessary.”

“You don’t seem very confident,” Benjamin observes. “Is there a catch?”

“We act out of necessity, not out of desire. He may draw attention.”

“Of course he will,” Benjamin scoffs. “People will see a man the Prophets brought from centuries in the pa…” He hesitates. “You meant from the Pah-wraiths.”

Sarah nods. “The few that remain outside the fire caves… will observe him. They will try to determine his purpose.”

“He doesn’t _have_ a purpose.”

“Not one that you foresee,” Sarah says cautiously. “That could change.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep an eye on him,” Benjamin sighs and raises an eyebrow.

Sarah smiles in approval.

“And…” Benjamin begins as he rubs his hands together. “I can’t think of any place better than with the others I’d like to keep an eye on. I think it’s time to meet this man.”

Sarah nods and turns to the frozen man.

* * *

 

Chris opens his eyes. White again. Pure, empty white. He rubs his chest, prompted by lingering pain.

_Damn that hurt._

Chris scans the empty void. The sound from earlier is gone.

"Hello?!" Chris calls out.

There is no response, not even an echo.

Two strangers, a man and a woman, suddenly blink into existence before Chris. The start causes the pain from earlier to return with incredible intensity. There is no crescendo of his heartrate this time—it simply stops.

The dark-skinned faces are quickly consumed by the darkness of his fading vision. Faint shapes are soon replaced by nothingness.

* * *

 

Watching the man experience a second heart failure disturbs Benjamin. The human visage is frozen again, but now a hint of confusion joins the predominant pain and terror. Benjamin rolls his eyes in frustration as he realizes this won't be as simple as he'd hoped.

"Its form is defective," Sarah observes. "Is it not best to leave it be?"

Benjamin shakes his head. "I’m the reason he’s here. This man deserves to live, and you should know I don’t give up that easily." Benjamin strokes his goatee and stares at the man's terrified expression. "It's his heart that failed. Can you fix his heart?"

Sarah cocks her head, perplexed.

Benjamin starts to wonder just how much the Prophets know about human physiology. Though the Bajorans worship the Prophets as gods, perhaps they’re not quite omniscient. He also notes that Sarah has been often been referring to the man as ‘it’. Beings not ‘of Bajor’ must not be held in the same regard.

"You healed the poet, surely you can heal _this_ man," Benjamin points to the terrified statue before them.

Sarah nods at Benjamin’s simplified request and turns toward the frozen form.

The man’s heavy clothing vanishes, surprising Benjamin and prompting him to avert his eyes. Even in the worst Starfleet medical facility, you’re offered the dignity of a robe or gown. Decency must be another concept foreign to the Prophets.

Benjamin watches Sarah stare intently at the now bare form—subtle flashes of light emanate from deep within her eyes. He turns back to the man to witness various internal and external tissues glowing and flashing in rapid succession. Veins, arteries, bones, muscles… and other organs in turn. The man's girth had been shrouded by his heavy clothing, but it‘s now obvious that this man is significantly overweight.

Benjamin recalls an interesting side note from studying his favorite sport's history. Baseball fans, a decent sample of the general population, saw a significant increase in obesity in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. One didn't have to look further than a concession stand to see the concurrent increase in food consumption and degradation of nutritional quality. It’s well known that excessive body mass correlates to an increased risk of heart disease, surely even in this man’s time. Knowing this, Benjamin is not surprised when Sarah’s efforts cause the man's overall physical appearance to change.

Benjamin’s eyes shift between Sarah and her patient in wonder as he rapidly starts to resemble a more typical 24th century male. Eventually, the man's glowing tissues and Sarah's flashing eyes cease their dramatic display.

Sarah turns to Benjamin expectantly. “There were _many_ flaws. I know you were displeased with making adjustments, but...”

With the concealing light show over, Benjamin steals but a quick glance at the man. “No… that’s… I’m sure that’s fine.”

Sarah smiles with satisfaction. “Shall I revive him again?”

“Please.”

* * *

 

Chris is surrounded by white again. The pain in his chest is gone, but his attention is stolen by something new.

_Damn it’s cold._

Before Chris can investigate the cause of his shivering, the man and woman from before pop into existence directly in front of him.

"Holy shit!" Chris yells in surprise

Chris stumbles backwards from the pair and falls in his panic. His breathing races out of control. He feels lightheaded and the faces blur. Once again, nothingness consumes him.

* * *

 

Sarah looks upon the collapsed form with confusion. "I am sorry, my son. I don’t understand. I repaired everything I…"

Benjamin observes more closely and smiles. "I believe you did plenty. This time was different." He sees the man's chest rise and fall. "He fainted."

"Fainted?"

"It's like sleep." Benjamin reconsiders his analogy. “Without linear time, you…  _we_ , don't sleep. Never mind. He's alive, but the Celestial Temple must be too much for him to accept."

Benjamin sighs heavily.

_If this man passed out within ten seconds in the Celestial Temple, what’ll happen when he’s thrust onto a 24th century space station?_

After some thought, Benjamin remembers when Grand Nagus Zek emerged from the wormhole and re-wrote the Rules of Acquisition. His brow lifts as an idea strikes him.

"Sarah, there was a Ferengi who entered the wormhole with an orb. He came out changed—of a different mind. How did that happen? Can you change memories… or add them?"

Sarah considers the concept and nods. "The linear being in possession of the orb wanted knowledge beyond his time. We denied him that wish, but what you ask is possible."

"I have an idea, but I have some research to do. I'm going to need some time to think this through."

"Time?" Sarah smiles.

"I have all the time I need." Benjamin smiles back at her, realizing he’s no longer bound by time. “And when we wake him next, can we greet him as someone familiar?”

"You cannot, but I can.”

"Thank you," Benjamin smiles. "I'll get to work. And… when you deliver him to the station… can you make sure he’s… covered?"

“Of course,” Sarah nods.

* * *

 

Chris opens his eyes to the collection of starships hanging from his apartment ceiling. Like a bad dream where you find yourself in a public place with no clothes, he finds himself naked on his couch.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asks from the recliner.

“Dude!” Chris is startled by Mike’s presence and quickly pulls a bulky afghan from the back of the couch. “What the hell!”

Mike stares blankly at Chris and repeats his question. “How do you feel?”

"Totally creeped out is how I feel! What’s the deal, man?!"

“You’re being sent to a new home.”

“What are you talking about?! Is this some practical joke?! If there’s a freaking camera somewhere, you’re dead!”

"You will not return to this place," Mike calmly gestures to the surrounding apartment.

Chris looks around for anyone else from the office that’s in on the joke.

Mike continues: "We’ve done all we can to prepare you."

"Huh? What are you talking about?”

As Mike stares at him, Chris is overcome by a bizarre sensation. He can’t decide if it’s like falling asleep, or more like waking up. His eyelids get heavy and the image of Mike drifts away as the apartment around him darkens and fades.


	3. Kira's Bad Day

**Chapter Three: Kira's Bad Day**

Colonel Kira Nerys of the Bajoran Militia sits in her office overlooking Ops on Deep Space Nine. It’s been several months since the costly war against the Dominion came to an end, and several months since the Emissary joined the Prophets in the Celestial Temple. Command of a now peaceful station has fallen to her. Though no stranger to leadership, the logistical and diplomatic matters associated with a heavily traveled and strategically significant space station present an entirely new set of challenges.

_Admiral Ross said you recommended me, Benjamin. I’m not sure you made the right choice. I’ve been…_

Kira sighs.

_You’re the Emissary, I’m sure you had your reasons._

Kira takes a sip of raktajino and continues to brood about the end of the war. She doesn’t question that the war coming to an end was a good thing, but the same several months since the Treaty of Bajor was signed are the same months that have passed since Odo returned to stay with the Founders in the Great Link.

_Most everyone found peace, but… I lost_ you _._

The exiled tailor, Garak, is back on Cardassia to pick up the pieces after the Dominion tore their empire apart. Worf is on Kronos, working to ensure a lasting peace between the Federation and Klingon empire. Mile O’Brien is on Earth, teaching future generations of Starfleet engineers.

_They all found their purpose. It’s all thanks to you._

The entire Alpha Quadrant is in Odo’s debt for convincing the Founders to end the war without fighting to the last man. The Treaty of Bajor is in place and the Alpha Quadrant is safe, but Kira misses Odo terribly and the safety of the Quadrant is tremulous. On selfish days like today, she’d trade the Quadrant in a heartbeat for a chance to see him again.

Kira holds a steaming mug of raktajino in one hand and Benjamin Sisko's antique baseball in the other. She slowly turns the ball in her hand and stares into a corner of her office. There, a framed picture sits alone on a small table. Vic Fontaine, a sentient hologram, captured the touching image of the first dance she and Odo shared in Vic’s holographic lounge set in 1962 Las Vegas.

Vic has proven that, even though he’s ‘just’ a holosuite program, he has the ability to access numerous systems across the station. When Kira returned from taking Odo to join the Founders, the ornately-framed picture was waiting within the replicator in her quarters. She still finds it ironic that the holosuites she’d avoided for so long were instrumental in connecting her with her true love—a love now so very far away.

I miss you so mu…

Kira's pining is interrupted by the flashing lights and piercing klaxon of a red alert. She curses at the burn of spilled Raktajino.

"Dammit! What the hell?!" Kira jumps from her chair and bolts from her office. "Report!"

Several blank stares is not the response Kira would’ve preferred. She repeats her command more forcibly. "Status report. Now!"

As eyes frantically turn to consoles and displays, a crashing sound echoes from an open access panel. The red alert ceases.

"Got it, sir!" cries an unfamiliar voice.

"Who's got what?!” Kira fumes as she searches for the owner of the voice. “Someone tell me what's going on!"

Before the red alert, Kira had been wallowing in the emptiness that Odo left behind. The interruption had soured her mood further, and none of the faces in Ops seem willing or able to explain what caused it.

_There better be some Breen itching for a fight or a station reactor on the verge of a meltdown._

“Anybody?!” Kira yells as she scans anxious faces once more.

"Ensign Williams, sir,” an Andorian answers nervously as he emerges from behind the access panel. “I was, uh… performing routine maintenance on some… some power couplings and… it just went off. But I fixed it… sir."

Kira closes her eyes and mouths a three count to contain a meltdown of her own. She misses Odo terribly, but Chief Engineer Miles O'Brien is a close second at times like this.

Though Kira is no longer yelling, her intensity increases ten-fold. "Ensign, I want you to grab your things and leave Ops as fast as Andorianly possible. You can finish up whatever the hell you _thought_ you were doing on a watch other than mine." Kira pauses for an angry sigh. "And have the doctor take a look at… that."

Kira points to her own head to signal that one of the Andorian’s antennae has been singed in the mishap. She takes a slow, deep breath as he scurries back under the console for his tools. She shakes her head, thinking about the many new personnel who’ve joined station ranks since the end of the war. She wonders how an Andorian, with their long antennae, expected to safely work maintenance in the tight confines of this Cardassian station.

_And what the hell kind of Andorian name is Williams?_

After another long breath, Kira turns to Ezri. "Dax, run a full diagnostic. I want to know if anything other than Williams' head got fried."

"Yes, sir. On it," Ezri nods and gets to work.

Kira is relieved that Ezri chooses a short and formal response instead of launching into any kind of lecture about taking it easy on green ensigns. Ezri has spoken to her on numerous occasions about how she’s become more irritable, but in front of a gawking crowd in Ops is not the time. The end of the war brought an end to a very long and stressful time for everyone, but taking command of the station while several senior officers moved on is proving to be extremely stressful for Kira specifically.

_Who am I kidding? It’s because I miss Odo too damn much._

* * *

 

Kira remains in her office and avoids conversation for the remainder of her watch. The false red alert pushed her over a ledge of frustration that she’s been approaching more closely every day since Odo left. She's had good days and bad since then, but the bad have been starting to outweigh and outnumber the good.

Ducking out of Ops a few minutes before the end of her watch, Kira feels only a tinge of guilt about her deliberate move to avoid Ezri. She knows Ezri would only want to give her grief about riding the Andorian too hard, or worse yet, try to counsel her about it. In all honesty, the Andorian had very little to do with Kira’s outburst, so talking about a non-issue would only frustrate her further.

Kira decides to head back to her quarters and stay in for the evening, skipping what has become a habitual gathering at Quark's. Julian and Ezri don't need her wretched attitude ruining their day as well, and she isn't in the mood to hear  _anything_  out of Quark.

After a simple meal alone, Kira meditates. She hopes it’ll provide some peace or clarity at the end of a chaotic day. As is becoming all too common however, all she can think about are past relationships.

Kira and Shakaar ended their romantic relationship mutually; they were friends before and remain close friends to this day. She does her best to cling to memories of that friendship—she even manages a smile.  Her smile fades quickly when her thoughts turn to Bareil. She loved Bareil deeply, and his loss was devastating. But, heart-wrenching as it was, his passing was a complete and final loss. She learned to accept it and move on. But Odo… Odo is still out there.

Odo is in the Great Link with ‘his people’. Kira knew he had to go to them; it was the deal he made to end the war. Kira is a strong, independent woman, so jealousy is an unfamiliar feeling.

_This person needs you too._

After several months, Kira can barely comprehend how she ever understood the need for Odo to stay with the Founders. He’d convinced the female Founder on Cardassia Prime to stand down and surrender herself within seconds of linking, so would he really be gone the rest of her lifetime to teach the remaining Founders that they could trust solids?

_It was the cure. She stood down in a heartbeat because Odo promised the cure. Still… how long would it really take to change their minds? How many years? Why not just a few more months? Why can’t we have more time?_

After a longing sigh, Kira dwells on how oblivious she’d been to Odo’s feelings for so long. Had he really been _that_ good at hiding them? It took an older version of Odo who’d been missing her for two centuries on a planet lost in time to provide the initial revelation. And it took Vic Fontaine, a manipulative hologram matchmaker, to make her realize how they truly felt about one another.

_If only I’d known sooner…_

In recent weeks, Kira has begun to have compelling daydreams that Odo will come back to her, if only for a visit. She’s found herself softly calling his name in empty rooms when a trick of the mind gives her the sense she’s not alone, tapping at random objects like a game of hide-and-seek. She’s been torturing herself with these thoughts and she knows it.

_This isn't helping._

Kira checks the time and realizes she’s been dwelling on the past much longer than she'd thought— the hour is quite late. She more surprised she hasn’t had a call or visit from Ezri to discuss her outburst in Ops.

_She probably knows I’d ignore her._

Kira blows out her meditation candles and walks to her bedroom. She runs her fingers along the rim of Odo's bucket as she passes through the doorway. She’s been keeping it on a small table just inside the bedroom door. She never walks in or out without caressing it. Kira knows this ritual is counterproductive in dealing with Odo's absence, but she can't imagine  _not_  doing it.

"Not yet," she always tells herself.

Kira glumly changes into her nightgown and climbs into bed.

"Lights," Kira commands softly. She sinks into the mattress with a heavy sigh.

Kira searches the stars beyond her windows for a long time before finally drifting off.

* * *

A bright light surrounds Kira that’s offensive to her sleeping eyes. She’s not immediately aware that she’s no longer in her bed.

“Computer, li…” She begins as she opens her eyes.

_Prophets! It’s…_

Kira blinks and searches the white expanse in awe.

_…the Prophets!_

Kira has had several orb experiences in her lifetime, and she’s passed through the wormhole in ships since its discovery seven years ago, but she’s never been within the Celestial Temple itself. Between Bajoran religious texts and Sisko’s description of it—and more recently Kasidy Yates’—Kira knows exactly where she is. Excitement overwhelms her.

_The Celestial Temple! Their home! The home of The Emissary! I have so many questions!_

Kira searches the expanse with more anticipation.

_What will they…? I almost forgot! Benjamin said they looked like people he knew._

Her mind racing, it feels like an eternity that Kira is washed in light—alone.

_Why am I here? Maybe… maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is an Orb Shadow?_

Sisko had spoken of an ‘Orb Shadow’. An image of Kai Opaka appeared to him after he briefly stepped aside as the Emissary. An Orb Shadow is the Prophets’ way of telling you to snap out of it and get your act together. After his Orb Shadow experience, and Akorem Laan’s disruptive acts as Emissary, Sisko reclaimed the mantle with renewed vigor. Kira knows she needs to get her act together as well, but she would’ve expected to hear it from Ezri Dax long before hearing it from the Prophets.

Before Kira can hypothesize further, Julian Bashir appears before her.

"You were the vessel for the Reckoning," the image of Julian states plainly.

"Y-yes. Yes I was," Kira stutters with a combination of awe and surprise. She also feels guilty: guilty that the war and thoughts of Odo have pushed something so monumental to the fringe of her memory.

"I was blessed to be chosen," Kira adds with a bow of her head.

Kira looks back up to see her friend Dax.

"The Sisko has chosen you for another task,” Ezri’s image says flatly.

Again, Kira feels both surprise and awe at the statement. "I… of course. Anything for the Emissary,” she says as she bows more completely.

Quark now speaks the Prophets' words. "There is a visitor among us that does not belong. It cannot be returned from whence it came.”

Before Kira can inquire about this ‘visitor’, or what she is being asked to do, Kai Winn continues. "The Sisko asks that you receive this visitor and help it adapt to its new existence."

Kai Winn’s appearance unsettles Kira. She was never fond of Winn, and the deceitful woman disappeared on Bajor around the time the Emissary joined the Prophets in the Celestial Temple. She knows Benjamin went to the fire caves, so it’s been Kira's guilty hope that Winn was punished by the Prophets or Pah-Wraiths in the course of whatever events transpired that day—she doesn't really care which.

"Of course." Kira bows her head and chokes on guilt under the scrutiny of her gods. "I’d happily receive _any_ guest of the Prophets."

Williams, singed antenna and all, speaks when Kira looks up again. Seeing his face stirs even more guilt given her outburst in Ops.

"At the Sisko's direction, the visitor has been prepared for its arrival,” the Andorian says.

Kira swallows her guilt and considers what’s being asked of her. She quickly poses some pertinent questions. "Prepared how? When will they arrive? How will I recognize them?"

Odo steps into view. It tears at Kira’s heart to see him. He appears so real, yet she knows he’s still so far away.

_Do the Prophets realize the pain this likeness inflicts?_

Kira swallows hard and stands straight.

_Of course they do. I have to find meaning in their lesson._

"With knowledge," the Prophet appearing as Odo says. "Soon. It knows you."

The Prophet answers all three of Kira’s questions in turn, but the responses are vague. Before she can ask for clarification, the image of Odo fades and the bright light dims.

"Odo! Please don’t go…" Kira laments as the Prophets gently return her to her slumber.


	4. Rude Awakening

**Chapter Four: Rude Awakening**

Kira wakes groggily in her bed.

_Odo…_

The last image of her dream was of Odo. Kira’s face warps with sorrow; Odo and the white expanse of her dream are gone. She is thankful for the familiar comfort of her bed and embrace of soft sheets, but they’re not enough to shake the dream.

_I’ve dreamt of him before, but this… this was different._

Slowly, Kira pries her eyes open. Confusion intrudes upon sadness.

_It… shouldn’t be this dark._

Kira finds herself almost completely blind despite gentle starlight from the windows in her bedroom. The real and perplexing effect of a dream’s bright light constricting her pupils prompts her heartrate to quicken.

_It wasn’t a dream. I was in the Celestial Temple!_

Lying on her side, Kira blinks in astonishment at an unseen wall she could practically touch if she chose to. As the fog of sleep lifts, she fights to recall details of her vision. Odo was there, but she remembers now that it wasn’t really Odo.

_It was a Prophet! A Prophet spoke to me! And… there were others._

Kira recalls Williams and Winn appearing in her dream. She relives the guilt that accompanied their presence—until she remembers the context.

_They weren’t judging me; they… I think they were delivering a message from the Emissary! What was it they said?_

Kira is frustrated by her blindness and the fogginess of her memory. She closes her eyes to pursue elusive images.

_The Emissary wants me to help someone adapt? Help who? Adapt to what?_

Kira’s brow furrows as she tries to remember more.

_Someone was lost? Lost how? Did the Prophets say how to find them?_

Kira’s furrowed brow raises as another detail resurfaces.

_I don’t have to find them; the Prophets are sending them to me! When? Who?_

As her memories solidify and she gains confidence in her recollection of the Prophets’ message, Kira tries to imagine the possible nature of her soon-to-be guest. Will it be an alien ambassador from a far corner of the galaxy? Will it be someone from Bajor’s past like the poet, Akorem Laan? Perhaps it could be a Kai from the distant future—space and time mean little to the Prophets.

_Who are they sending?_

Kira knows the possibilities are endless but, because the Emissary and Prophets are involved, she’s convinced she’s destined to meet a figure of great importance.

_They’ll need_ my _help? Me? The Prophets said they ‘prepared’ them; what more can_ I _offer?_

Anxiety replaces Kira’s awe of having spoken with the Prophets. She recalls their answers to her questions in the guise of Odo: “With knowledge. Soon. It knows you.”

_What knowledge did they give this person? What is “soon” to a Prophet? It ‘knows’ me?_

The last point twists Kira’s stomach. This undoubtedly regal guest of the Prophets could _only_ learn of her from the Prophets themselves. She finds the idea of their words preceding her… unsettling.

_How will I know what to do? What expectations will this ‘visitor’ have? What expectations do the_ Prophets _have?_

Kira opens her eyes to find they’ve begun to adjust. The dim starlight entering the windows at the far end of the room now reveals her missing bedroom wall. With renewed sight, her anxious gaze drifts to the strong symbol of comfort not far from the foot of the bed: Odo's bucket.

_He’d remind me that I’ve been through_ much _worse than fretting over an unexpected guest._

Thoughts of Odo quickly diffuse Kira’s anxiety but at the cost of drifting back into sorrow. It was hard to see Odo appear so close, so real. She’d wanted to embrace him but resisted, knowing it was truly a Prophet that stood before her. All told, the experience created an uncomfortable mix of reverence and angst.

Now, staring at his bucket, Kira dwells on powerful memories that she and the real Odo formed together over the last few years. A tear slides down her cheek as she lingers on their poignant goodbye. Before she can move to wipe it from her face, Kira hears a rustling sound behind her. She freezes.

_What was that?_

Kira is immediately alert; her eyes open wide. The faint sound against absolute silence has pushed her conversation with the Prophets, even the sight of Odo, to distant corners of her mind. Her heart races. She listens. She hears nothing further for several eternal seconds.

_Did I imagine it?_

Very slowly, Kira rolls onto her back and turns her head. She is not alone.

_What the…?_

What Kira finds is not some fantastic alien or Bajoran in holy robes—nothing at all resembling a grand guest of the Prophets. Instead, she finds an ordinary-looking human male—fast asleep beside her.

_Who the hell is this?!_

Kira contemplates the level of perception she may have had while communing with the Prophets.

_Did this man break in during my vision? Did he beam in? Would I have heard anything?_

The sleeping man is on his back; his chest is bare. Kira blinks in shock as this elicits a repulsive suspicion. She lifts the sheet gently and, squinting in the low light, confirms it. Her jaw drops. Her brows, previously raised in alarm, bear down on the man like sharpened horns.

_You sir, are a_ dead _man!_

Kira lowers the sheet as swiftly as she dares. She doesn’t want to wake this bare intruder while still in a vulnerable position.

_He could have a weapon—somewhere. It’s dark, and he’s…_

Kira is disgusted by the obscene distraction and buries the thought with a soft growl. Slipping out of bed in a nightgown, she clenches her jaw and wraps herself in a robe. She plucks her phaser and combadge from the nightstand, tapping the latter as soon as the former is trained on her target.

"Kira to Security," her voice shakes with rage. She’s no longer concerned with waking the man now that she's gripping a weapon.

"Yes, Colonel?” a voice answers over the comm.

"There’s an intruder in my quarters. Send a team to my section and wait for further orders."

“Should we go to red alert? Do you need me to notify medical?”

Kira grunts in frustration. “Just send the damn team.”

“Of course,” the voice responds meekly. “They'll be there shortly."

Wiping remnants of sorrowful thoughts from her cheek, Kira’s fury grows as the intruder stirs.

* * *

 

Chris wakes to excited voices. The heavy fog of a lengthy and unnatural sleep shrouds its source and true nature.

_Geeze. Again? Go inside your apartment to fight for chrissake._

After his nightmares of white, Chris is relieved to wake to relative darkness. A soft glow from beyond the foot of the bed draws his attention.

_Damn. They fix a street light or something? Room-darkening blinds my ass._

Oblivious to the immediate threat, Chris opens his mouth for a cavernous yawn. He stretches his arms wide with his hands in tight fists. When his ears pop, he hears something unexpected.

_Is that… breathing?_

To Chris, the room is but vague shades of black as his eyes have yet to adjust to the glow from outside. He turns to the sound from his right, fully expecting to find that radio static from his alarm clock has fooled his imagination. Instead, he finds a dark form looming beside the bed.

_The hell is that?_

* * *

Already upset with the presence of a naked man in her bed, Kira is sickened by his causal rousing. "Who are you?!" she yells as he turns to face her.

The man cries out and scrambles away in fright. His panicked flailing reaches the edge of the bed and he tumbles to the floor.

"Lights!" Kira commands as she furiously rolls her eyes. The man's panic and clumsy display only add insult to the intrusion. She aims her phaser at the edge of the bed. “I _said_ : who are you?!”

* * *

Chris is terrified.

_Shit! Someone broke in! If… if I can get to the closet and…_

Before Chris can formulate a plan, a simple command from the intruder floods the room with light. Squinting and shielding his eyes, the first thing he notices is that _this_ is not his bedroom. A close second is that he’s completely naked.

_What the…? Where are my pajamas?!_

As Chris assesses his jumbled position on the floor, he realizes that the body occupying the space between the bed and nearby wall is not his own.

"Oh my god! What happened to me?!"

The angry voice yells in response. “What happened to _you_?! Mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I can tell you exactly what’s _going_ to happen if you don’t tell me who you are and what you’ve done!”

"What _I’ve_ done?” Chris replies in shock. “But I haven’t…”

After a delay, and with more words to digest, Chris feels a tinge of familiarity in the attacker’s voice.

“Wait…”

Chris yanks the sheet from the bed and covers himself as he peeks over the mattress. He finds himself looking upon someone he has no logical explanation for being face to face with.

“…you're…"

Chris has a hard time speaking as he can't believe who he sees.

"…Nana Visitor?"

* * *

Kira draws a bead on the intruder’s head as soon as he exposes it. His unusual address stays her trigger finger.

"What?!" Kira asks sharply.

“ _Miss_ Visitor?” the frightened man addresses her again.

_He’s saying ‘visitor’ like it’s my damn name. The Prophets said their guest would know me but…_

Kira stares at the man, dumbfounded by the bizarre exchange. There’s a hint of recognition in his eyes, but she’s too livid to believe he’s anything more than an intrusive pervert.

_…there’s no way in_ hell _they sent_ _this man!_

The man’s expression changes. His cheeks flush with embarrassment as he glances down.

“Why am I…?”

“Naked?” Kira fumes. “I find you in my bed like that and you’re going to pretend you don’t know why?! I want _answers_ , dammit! And if I don’t like what I hear, I’m _stunning_ your sorry ass! Now… how’d you get in here?!”

The man recoils at Kira’s threat. He looks confused as he nods to her weapon. “But… but that’s not really…”

Kira shifts her aim and pulls the trigger. A phaser blast hits the wall not half a meter from the intruder’s head.

"Holy shit!" the man exclaims as he ducks behind the bed.

"Answer me, you bastard!” Kira yells. “This phaser’s fully charged. If you've touched me, I will _drain_ it on you!"

* * *

Chris cowers on the floor behind the bed. He’s too stunned by the blast to register the woman’s accusation.

_That can’t be real! Phasers aren’t real!_

Chris looks up at the smoking scar on the wall.

_How can this be?!_

"Security to Kira!" an excited voice that emanates from the ceiling exclaims.

"Go ahead," the woman replies with palpable anger.

_Who the hell is she talking to? Did he just call her ‘Kira’?_

"Are you alright?” the urgent voice asks. “We detected phaser fire.”

“That was me; I’m fine,” the woman responds dismissively.

“And the intruder?”

“I’ve got him pinned down. I’ll be hauling him in soon— _to the infirmary_.”

The woman’s final statement is emphasized and projected at Chris, still huddled behind the bed.

_Wait…_ I’m _the intruder?_

“And the security team?” the voice asks.

“They can stand down. I’ll fill you in later.”

"Understood, colonel."

Chris blinks at the wall with wide eyes.

Who _can stand down? Colonel?_

Chris turns to peek at the woman again.

_She’s wearing the Bajoran nose-thing and earring, alright. Crazy thing is she looks_ exactly _like she did on the TV show. But that was twenty years ago!_

“This can’t be,” Chris says in shock. “You can’t really be…”

“Shut up!” the woman snaps. “I’m not nah… nah… whatever. And I’m still waiting! If you’ve laid a _finger_ on me, I’ll…”

“What?! What are you talking about? I haven’t…”

“That’s it, pal. Lights out. I’ll let security sort it out.”

Chris ducks quickly when the woman takes a more deliberate aim. His respite is brief as the sound of angry footfalls travel around the bed.

_This doesn’t make any sense! She believes she’s Kira Nerys! She_ looks _like Kira Nerys!_

Chris is out of time. The woman comes into view beyond the foot of the bed and raises her weapon.

Chris cries out in panic. “Don’t shoot, Kira!”

* * *

As Kira rounds the bed and takes aim, she halts at the intruder’s cry. Despite her rage, what may have been the distressed utterance of her name reminds her of the Prophets’ claim that their guest would know her. Instead of squeezing the trigger, she clenches her jaw. “What did you say?”

“Please don’t shoot,” the man pleads with his arms crossed in front of his face.

Kira glares at the man wrapped in her bedsheet—frustrated that he didn’t respond to the intent of her question. “ _Do you know_ who I am?!”

“This is crazy,” the man sobs as he tucks an elbow over his eyes and extends his other hand in a pleading gesture.

“Oh, _screw_ this,” Kira says as her patience runs out. She takes aim once again.

“Kira Nerys isn’t real,” the man adds after finishing a deep, sniffling breath.

Kira jerks her head back and blinks. Not only does the intruder demonstrate clear knowledge of who she is, but he refers to her in the third person—as a figment of his imagination. “What?”

The man hesitantly lowers his arm to look Kira in her eyes. The fearful gaze unsettles her.

“You’re right out of a TV show they don’t even _make_ anymore. You… _can’t_ be real.”

“What are you talking about? Are you insane?”

“Insane?” the man blinks as if considering the possibility. “No, this… this has to be some kinky dream gone wrong.”

“Excuse me?!” Kira’s eyes ignite.

“My clothes are gone and you’re… well…” The man gestures to Kira’s bedclothes. “And now you’re trying to _kill_ me.”

Kira pulls her robe closed without sacrificing her aim. “You _demented_ son of a bitch. Have you…?”

“And I’m…” the man rambles on. “I’m not even _me!_ I _must_ be dreaming. Maybe… maybe I’m Lee Adama. Do I look like Lee Adama?”

Kira blinks furiously at the bizarre question. “Who?!”

The man points at Kira with suspicion. “Do you _really_ not know, or are you _pretending_ to not know since they’re characters from two different shows? Maybe you really _don’t_ know and I’m...” The man frantically explores his face with his hands. “I can’t tell! Am I me? Am I…?”

“Shut up!” Kira yells and thrusts the phaser forward. “Shut. Up! Just… just _stop_ for a minute!”

The man falls silent at the emphatic threat.

Kira closes her eyes and rubs her forehead. “I-I need to think.”

* * *

The woman’s outburst and threatening gesture pulls Chris from his spiraling thoughts. With the chaotic conversation at a pause, he attempts to collect himself and take inventory of the situation.

_I’m me. Who else would I be? And… this isn’t a dream. Everything’s too damn real. That phaser is_ definitely _real, and she’s…_

Chris examines the woman closely. Her chest heaves and nostrils flare with angered breathing. Her jaw is clenched tight and the fingers rubbing her forehead are pressed against it so forcefully that they leave discolorations where the blood has been pushed from her skin.

_She’s flippin’ real. She’s dressed for bed and I’m… oh shit._

Chris gulps after reconsidering this scenario from the woman’s perspective. She’d come to bed to find a naked man already there. The burn mark on the wall could’ve easily been a hole in his chest.

_I might not’ve woken up at all!_

As Chris stares at her in shock, the woman’s mannerisms gradually become less agitated. The aggressive rubbing of her forehead slows and she takes slower, deeper breaths. The phaser directed at him slowly lowers, though he dare not move all the same.

Chris takes a slow, deep breath of his own as the immediacy of the threat wanes.

_What the hell is going on?_

Chris tries to think back to what happened before waking up in this fictional place.

_I was on my way to meet Mike for lunch. A stoplight turned green and..._

* * *

Kira focuses on taking deep breaths to calm herself.

_Ease up, Nerys. The man’s terrified. He’s no guest of the Prophets, and he’s obviously lost his mind, but maybe he didn’t…_

Kira’s eyes pop open as the man breaks his silence.

“Oh… my… god,” the man says with extreme awe.

Not only is the man no longer silent, but he’s no longer on the floor—he’s risen half-way to his feet. Kira raises her weapon, but the man doesn’t flinch.

“Hey!” Kira says with renewed anger. “You sit yourself _right_ back down.”

The man still doesn’t react. He’s so consumed with something behind Kira that he almost fails to lift the concealing sheet as he stands.

“Oh, for the love of…” Kira huffs. “Seriously?”

The man half-heartedly adjusts his makeshift robe. As he does, Kira turns her head to steal a quick glance over her shoulder. She does a double-take when she sees the wormhole beyond her window.

“What the hell?” Kira says aloud as she stares beyond the window. “I shouldn’t be able to…”

Suddenly remembering herself, Kira snaps her head back to the intruder. She finds that he’s significantly closed the distance between them. Her aim never faltering, she steps backwards and out of his way as he slowly approaches one of the windows. She taps her combadge.

“Kira to Ops,” Kira says while looking between the man and the wormhole with wide eyes. She doesn’t wait for acknowledgement. “How is it I’m seeing the wormhole?”

An uncertain voice responds. “I’m sorry, colonel?”

“The wormhole is the home of my _gods_ , Ensign Sharpe. I know what days I should and shouldn’t be able to see it from my quarters.”

There’s a delay in the ensign’s response. “Uh… sir? It seems the station’s rotation is currently out of spec.”

“Out of spec?” Kira’s anger at the intruder leaves little patience for the ensign.

“Sisko…” the man says as he nears the window.

“Excuse me?” the ensign responds to the unexpected voice.

“The Emissary?” Kira blinks at the intruder with sudden curiosity. “Just… forget it Sharpe.”

“Colonel,” the ensign adds, “we’ve not detected any ships entering or exiting the wormhole. We don’t know why it’s open.”

Kira steps to the second window in the room to get a better look at the man’s expression while keeping an eye on the wormhole herself. “I… I think I might. Kira out.”

As the man stares at the wormhole with anxious disbelief, the vision of Odo rushes to the forefront of Kira’s memory. The Prophet’s words about their visitor replay in her mind.

“Who… _are_ you?” Kira asks.

* * *

Chris hears chatter around him but the sound is distant. He makes no effort to decipher the words. All he can focus on is the swirl of blue and rose beyond the window. Memories of his time within the Celestial Temple overwhelm him.

_White. That damned white. And pain—pain like I’ve never felt before. There was a face…_

“Sisko…”

Chris tries to rectify the terror he felt at seeing Benjamin Sisko’s face in his dream given his familiarity with the character from the TV show.

_It’s like he was a stranger, but… he was in the show. I remember the show. Then again… I_ don’t _remember the show._

Chris may not remember each one clearly, but he knows he’s watched every episode of Deep Space Nine at one time or another. He’s seen the cast names in the opening credits nearly two hundred times. However, something about his memories is off.

_I don’t have any of the_ stuff _. I’ve never met any of the actors._

Chris considers his vast collection of signed memorabilia that’s crammed into his tiny apartment—not a shred of it from Star Trek. Not once has he seen _any_ member of the Deep Space Nine cast at a convention. And surely, given the number of them he's attended, he would’ve seen at least _one_ person wear a Starfleet uniform or cosplay as a Klingon.

_There_ can’t _have been a show. So what the hell?_

Chris remembers Mike’s words from his dream: “We’ve done all we can to prepare you.”

_They_ made _me remember it. There_ wasn’t _a show. The Prophets, they… they made it all up! It’s real. Holy shit, it’s_ real _!_

* * *

The man doesn’t respond to Kira’s simple question, but excitement replaces the troubled expression on his face. Standing a little taller, he turns to her with a wide smile.

The degree of change, the happiness and wonder in the man’s eyes, surprises Kira. The terror from moments before is gone. His eyes now convey the power of an epiphany and the full weight of recognition.

“You really _are_ Kira Nerys,” the man says in awe.

“I am,” Kira nods cautiously in return. “And you are…?”

“I’m…” The man’s smile falters as he eyes the phaser aimed at his chest. “That… makes me nervous.”

“Nervous?” The man’s comment about the weapon reminds Kira of the immense anger and disgust that led to her holding it. His reaction to the wormhole and mention of the Emissary isn’t nearly enough to absolve him of his offense. Angry lines retake her brow. “You were in my bed.”

The man’s face flushes with embarrassment as he points to the other end of the room. “I don’t know how I got there—I swear.”

“ _I_ was in my bed.” Kira pushes the phaser forward to emphasize the point.

The man blinks in surprise. “But… the first thing I remember is…”

Kira glares in response to being questioned.

The man holds up a hand. “Shit; I’m sorry. I-I can’t explain that.”

Kira taps the window beside her. “You expect me to believe _they_ put you there?”

“I didn’t say that,” the man says as he looks at Kira curiously before turning back to the window, “but… nothing else makes sense.”

Kira stares at the man as her thoughts battle over what to believe. She can’t shake the anger and repulsion of finding him beside her, but she can’t deny the growing suspicion that he’s right.

_I still want to shoot him._

* * *

Chris has never felt so awkward than under the prolonged scrutiny of a very real Kira Nerys. He’s been in the company of celebrities during his convention experiences but never has he commanded their attention—much less be the target of their wrath.

_She’s just…_ staring _at me._

To make matters worse, Chris is still wearing only in a bedsheet. He readjusts it as best he can.

“Uh…” Chris fidgets nervously after he can bear Kira’s stare no longer. “Could I… get some clothes please?”

Kira blinks rapidly as if breaking out of a trance. “What?”

“Clothes?” Chris abbreviates his request. “I, uh…”

Kira narrows her eyes and huffs. “I’ve been trying to decide whether I shoot you for not having any.”

Chris blinks widened eyes as Kira’s scowl gives way to a slow eye roll.

“Fine,” Kira says. “I’m tired of seeing you like this anyway. Computer, scan the human male in the room. Replicate a full set of casual clothes.”

Chris hears the sound of what must be the replicator from the next room while Kira backs towards the door.

"Don't move. I won't be gone but _two_ seconds." Kira briefly directs her eyes to the phaser as if any reminder is needed as to the penalty for disobedience.

Chris stands perfectly still as Kira ducks around the corner. She quickly reappears with a stack of folded clothes and a pair of shoes. After tossing them into a nearby chair, she aims a squinting stare into his eyes.

Chris nervously clears his throat. "Some, uh… privacy please?"

Kira’s expression softens with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm just… I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.”

“That makes two of us,” Chris says as he glances at the wormhole.

“Don’t try anything funny,” Kira says as she lowers the weapon, points, and backs out of the room again. “I don't trust you."

Chris takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh. He’s relieved to have space to think without being subjected to the accusatory stare of a TV show character.

_This is so weird! It’s like…_

Chris catches sight of Kira’s shoulder. She’s leaned herself against the wall just outside the door.

“You really need to hover that close to the door?” Chris sighs. “I’d feel better with it closed.”

“I have _no_ intention of leaving you to your own devices,” Kira replies. “I’ll be right here—listening. Besides, I might have some questions for you.”

“I’ve got a _million_ questions, but I’d rather get dressed first.”

“Then get to it.”

As Chris begins to dress, he once again realizes he’s trapped in another man's body. It isn't quite reminiscent of his ideal futuristic space hero, Lee Adama, but it shatters the target of his New Year's resolution.

_The Prophets must have done this… but why?_

Chris can’t dwell on his new physique as Kira Nerys is impatiently waiting just outside the room. His thoughts instead turn to memories he inexplicably has of her. To him it was just a TV show, but he begins to wonder if everything he 'remembers' really happened here.

“Can I ask you something?” Chris cautiously asks Kira’s shoulder.

“Does that mean you’re dressed already?” Kira fires back.

“Of course not, but… I have a lot of memories I can’t explain. I think the Prophets gave them to me.”

Chris watches Kira move to enter the room but stop herself short.

“With knowledge,” Kira utters quietly to herself as she settles back against the wall.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kira replies shortly. “That wasn’t even a question.”

“Well, I…” Chris hesitates as he’s confronted with the odd experience of scanning memories that he knows aren’t his own. “Did you really see your own grave?”

“I… I did,” Kira sounds surprised. “But I didn’t think anyone…”

“That must’ve been strange.”

“It was. How do you…?”

“Oh, they’ve shown me a ton of stuff! They made me remember all of it like a TV show.”

“What the hell is a…?”

“Oh! One of them even _possessed_ you once! What was _that_ like?”

“Numinous,” Kira answers with frustration. “Do you _always_ interrupt people this often?”

“What does numinous even…? Uh, no, I’m just…” Chris pauses as he notices Odo’s bucket by the door.

“Good, because it’s very…”

“Did you really not know he loved you all those years?”

“Excuse me?”

“Odo. Did you really not know? I mean… it was pretty obvious by season three.”

“Season?”

“It was the episode where you saw your own grave. The old Odo told you how he—and the young him—felt about you.”

“Episode? What are you…?

“But the dance in the holosuite… and your first kiss? Classic! It was wonderful to see the two of you finally…”

“Alright stop,” Kira commands as she spins into the room with her phaser raised.

“Huh?” Chris finishes pulling his shirt into place and looks up to see Kira’s scowl. Having just been the victim of her true anger, he can tell something’s different. It takes him too long to realize he’s hit a sensitive subject.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Chris says as he points to the bucket. “I saw that and simply… remembered. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You think I’m upset?” Kira says as she blows out a short breath.

“Yes; I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just go around telling strangers what they’re feeling.”

“Kira,” Chris says, then hesitates. “I have memories of you spanning seven years. You’re not a stranger to me; I _know_ you.”

* * *

_He knows you._

The nearly verbatim echo of words spoken by the Prophet appearing as Odo stuns Kira. Her frustration with this man’s curious banter fades instantly. She lets her hand holding the phaser drop to her side.

“The Prophets really _did_ send you here.”

The man nods but quickly turns his head to the window. Kira turns to see what caught his attention and catches the tail end of the wormhole closing.

“I guess they made their point,” the man states quietly.

Kira stares at the void where the wormhole was. “I… didn’t catch your name.”

“My name’s Chris.”

“I’m sorry I shot at you, Chris,” Kira says, only shooting him a sideways glance.

“It was on stun, right?”

Kira nods.

“Then… I understand—given the circumstances.”

“I appreciate that you do. And Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Your pants are on backwards.”


	5. Cooler Heads

**Chapter Five: Cooler Heads**

Kira shakes her head and closes her bedroom door, leaving Chris in the main room of her quarters to ponder her claim that he’s somehow managed to put his pants on backwards.

_I guess I could see doing that under the circumstances._

Kira scoffs at herself.

_I can’t believe I pulled the trigger._

After the chaos of their introduction had subsided, Kira was overwhelmed by Chris’ eagerness to ask questions—strange questions. She had shooed him out of her bedroom after striking the deal that, if he let her get changed, she’d answer all she could over breakfast.

 _Why’d the Prophets send this man? He seems to know so much about me, yet_ nothing _about why he’s here. What’s his story?_

Kira slides her robe from her shoulders on the way to her closet. She halts abruptly after two steps.

 _What if I was right to begin with? What if the Prophets_ didn’t _send this man? Everything happened so fast…_

“Computer,” Kira says quietly, “lock down my quarters. Restrict data and physical access.”

_Just in case._

“Affirmative,” the computer responds at its normal volume level. “Data and access points are now restricted.”

“What was that?” Kira hears from the other room.

“Make yourself at home!” Kira speaks up and lies.

“Uh… OK?” is Chris’ uncertain reply.

Kira curses under her breath as she hurries to change.

 _We_ both _have a lot of questions._

* * *

_Make myself at home?_

Chris looks around Kira’s quarters.

_I’m not touching a damn thing—at least… not unit I figure out this stupid pair of pants._

Chris sighs. He’s eager to know why he’s here and why he’s been changed, but Kira's reaction makes it clear she’s as much in the dark as he is.

“They told you I was coming?!” Chris yells to be heard through the bedroom door.

There’s no answer at first, but then the door slides open and Kira peeks out.

Chris blinks twice before glancing away from the bare shoulder Kira exposes. “Sorry, I…”

“If you promise to stay over there,” Kira points with her eyes, “I’ll leave this open so we don’t have to shout.”

“OK…” Chris says timidly as Kira slides out of sight, “…but…”

Kira pokes her head out again. “But?”

“They told you?”

“Yes, but… as you can guess: they weren’t very _clear_ about it.”

Chris answers with a blank stare.

Kira raises her eyebrows and cocks her head. “Or I wouldn’t’ve threatened you with a phaser?”

Comprehension livens Chris’ face. “Right. Of course.”

Kira shakes her head and ducks back into the bedroom. “Since we’re apparently going to do this anyway, why don’t you start by telling me what the Prophets and Emissary told you.”

“I…” Chris pauses as he thinks back to the torture of white. “I don’t think they _told_ me anything.”

“Nothing? Then how…?”

“Wait,” Chris says as he remembers ‘Mike’s’ words. “I had this crazy dream where my friend from work told me they’d ‘prepared’ me, but… he must’ve been referring to the TV show.”

“You’ve mentioned that twice now. I think it’s time you explain what you’re talking about.”

Chris lets out a sigh. He knows the concept of television is familiar to some of the 'characters' on the station, but Kira isn't one of them. He recalls her general avoidance of holosuites—the TVs of the distant future.

* * *

"So, let me see if I'm following…" Kira raises her voice to reach the next room clearly. "'TV' is short for 'television', and a 'TV show' is like a holosuite program, but… it's not interactive and… it's two-dimensional?"

"That pretty much sums it up," Chris acknowledges.

"And… you ‘know’ me because the Prophets gave you memories of me in this 'TV show'?"

“Not _just_ you, but… yeah.”

“Then why’d you call me a different name at first?"

“Because in a TV show, the characters are fictional. The cast, a group of actors, portray them.”

“So, what you called me was the name of the actor that played… me?”

“Exactly.”

“Why do you think the Prophets went through the trouble? Why not just tell you?”

Chris scoffs. “So I wouldn’t totally wig out, I guess. Fill my head with memories of space stations and aliens without the context of fiction and who knows how I would’ve reacted.”

Kira suddenly realizes the nature of Chris’ displacement. His ordinary appearance and the chaos of his arrival had distracted her from the fact that time and space mean little to the Prophets. She peeks around the door frame to find Chris inspecting the waistband of his still-backwards pants. Instead of a brazen intruder, she sees a meek man that’s grossly out of place.

Kira is overcome with guilt for second-guessing her conclusion that the Prophets delivered Chris to her quarters. She gingerly sets her phaser out of sight.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris looks up, surprised to find her watching.

“What _time_ are you from?”

After a slow blink at Kira, Chris turns to a window and blows out a long, slow breath. “It had, uh… just turned 2015,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how long ago that was. I have no idea how Stardates work.”

“But you know you’ve been brought through time?”

Chris nods to the window.

Kira knows that Vic Fontaine’s lounge is set in 1962 Las Vegas and remembers Julian saying that would’ve been approximately four hundred years in the past. Her sympathy for the man in her quarters intensifies given how far removed he is from his home. She also feels awe that he’s not more affected by the experience.

Kira speaks softly. “That was three hundred fifty years ago.”

Chris raises his eyebrows. “I shouldn’t be surprised but… still.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “The Prophets, they… taught me a lot about this place, but…”

“But?”

Chris looks down for a second then back to Kira with an exaggerated expression of defeat. “They left out pants.”

Chris’ spontaneous attempt at humor hits Kira with a wave of relief. She responds with a grin. “Look, I _swear_ they’re backwards. I’ll catch all _kinds_ of hell if I let you walk around like that.”

The two share a short, playful chuckle before Chris’ expression sobers. “You’re not surprised by all this?”

“The _Prophets_ brought you,” Kira shrugs. “They’re timeless. Three centuries ago is no different than tomorrow. But… there’s something I don’t get.”

“Just _one_ thing?”

“Well, no, but this has been _quite_ different from the last time they brought someone from the past.”

“You mean the poet? What about him?”

“They told you about Akorem?”

“Not _told_ … but yeah. He, uh… took over as Emissary for a bit and wanted the Bajorans to go back to following their… their…”

“D’jarras,” Kira offers the term when Chris’ false memory can’t muster it.

“Right. I remember you trying to…” Chris stops abruptly.

“I tried to sculpt birds,” Kira blushes and lets out an uncomfortable chuckle.

Chris joins in Kira’s weak amusement.

Kira catches the change in Chris’ mood. “You sure you’re OK?”

Chris nods rapidly in an obvious attempt to quell Kira’s concern. “I’ll be fine.”

Kira squints slightly as she starts to pull back from the doorway. “We can talk more about it later. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

Chris nods more naturally in agreement.

* * *

Chris blinks hard as Kira disappears to her bedroom. A vivid memory of Kira sighing over a collection of deformed clay figures had stolen his focus.

_What the hell was that all about?_

Another vivid memory surfaces. The woman in the next room almost abandoned her post as first officer to follow her D’jarra on Bajor. Her conversation with Sisko was very emotional.

Chris sucks in a short breath. “Kira?”

“Yes?” Kira’s answer from the next room is muted.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.”

Kira pokes her head out again. “What are you talking about?”

“You… you almost left because of that poet. I’m glad you didn’t.”

Kira squints at Chris. “It’s interesting what the Prophets decided to show you. I know you said you’re OK, but you’re not acting like it.”

“I’m fine,” Chris nods. “I just think… well… some of the memories they gave me are still… coming to the surface. My head’s a bit of a mess right now”

“Take your time. And don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re doing much better than when Akorem arrived. That’s why the time issue didn’t occur to me earlier. He was in the infirmary a couple of days before he could even speak.”

“Wow,” Chris blinks. “I remember he was hurt but… they kinda left that part out.”

“Maybe they didn’t feel it was important,” Kira shrugs. “But anyway—I’m almost ready; last chance to fix those.”

Chris looks down at his pants. “Right. I almost forgot.”

* * *

Finishing up getting dressed, Kira contemplates the differences between the Bajoran poet that visited the station three years ago and the man in the next room. For some reason, one was left injured and unconscious in a lightship while the other was deposited, unclad but healthy, directly in her bed.

 _I don’t even want to try and interpret_ that _little detail._

Akorem Laan ultimately had a singular purpose. His ideas were grossly outdated and served to remind Sisko that he was the true Emissary of the Prophets. Once his purpose was fulfilled, Akorem was returned to his own time. In contrast, the Prophets prepared Chris with a vast amount of knowledge and are asking Kira to “help him adapt.”

_Whatever their reasons, they brought Chris here to stay. He’s not going home._

Kira wonders if Chris was told as much. “Hey, Chris? I’m not sure what…”

"I got it!" Chris' excited declaration cuts her off.

"Got what?" Kira asks as she pops her head out to see. She finds Chris holding his pants up in front of himself, staring closely at the fly.

Chris replies with his voice still raised, unaware that Kira is staring right at him. "I figured out the… the whatchamacallit!"

Kira watches Chris lower the pants below eye level and catch sight of her. His eyes widen and face reddens. She rolls her eyes and retreats to her bedroom.

"Does that mean you believe me now?” Kira calls out.

“It’s not that I didn’t _believe_ you; I just… nevermind.”

Kira chuckles at Chris’ embarrassed tone, but she straightens her face as she ponders the unasked question.

_Either he’s taking this tremendously well, or he has no idea that he’s stuck here._

* * *

Chris can feel the heat of his flushed face. The knot in his stomach slowly unwinds as he quietly puts his pants on the 'correct' way. The victory of discovering the concealed front access, employing a fastener only vaguely resembling a zipper, now feels like a decided defeat.

_Damn. Future pants one; Chris zero._

Chris takes a seat to put on pleasantly straightforward shoes. “All right. I’m Decent again,” he says with lingering embarrassment.

Kira emerges from the bedroom in her red, Bajoran uniform. It looks exactly like Chris remembers from the TV show: a seemingly one-piece, form-fitting jumpsuit. His stare is unintentional.

“What?” Kira asks in response to Chris’ gawking.

Chris’ eyes snap to Kira’s. “Nothing. Sorry. These future clothes are just a bit… strange to me.”

Kira dips her chin. “You’re a terrible liar, Chris. From what you’ve told me, I bet you knew _exactly_ what my uniform would look like.”

Chris shrugs and wrinkles his nose as he nods.

Kira blinks. “What’s _that_ face supposed to mean?”

“I, uh…” Chris feels his face flush again. “I kinda liked the old one better.”

Kira glances down before nodding to Chris with a smirk. “So did I. Some garbage about a promotion. But enough about clothes; let’s go get some food.”

* * *

 

Kira points the way as Chris steps from her quarters. He freezes as soon as he turns down the hallway.

“Chris?”

Kira feels an emotional tug. She imagines a petrified expression on Chris’ face as he’s confronted with by the scale of the station. Stepping past him, she turns to find a wondrous smile of awe.

Kira smirks with relief. “It’s just a hallway, Chris.”

"I know, I know. I just… I can’t believe it’s all _real_. And how the Prophets made me remember it like a TV show is… unbelievable.”

Kira shrugs, still wearing a smirk. "They're the Prophets." She gestures down the hall and the pair makes their way to a turbolift station.

Chris continues to look around in wonder. "I guess it makes sense this was one of my favorite shows."

“One of?” Kira raises an eyebrow.

Chris backpedals. “Well… I…”

“Relax,” Kira smiles. “I’m just teasing.”

Chris chuckles uneasily.

Kira’s smile gives way to a sympathetic frown. “I know you’re sick of me asking, but are you alright?”

Unlike his quick responses earlier, Chris hesitates. “This is all so strange. This place, you… It’s exciting, but it’s also…”

“Overwhelming?” Kira guesses at Chris’ feelings. She comes to a stop and takes hold of Chris’ arm. “Chris, this is a tremendous change, and…” Kira trails off. She exhales slowly as her brow wrinkles.

“And?”

Kira sighs. “When the Prophets told me about you? They said they couldn’t send you back. I don’t understand how that can be, but… I’m sorry.”

Chris nods subtly. "I didn’t remember it at first, but… I was told the same thing. Thanks."

Kira’s interest in the Prophets immediately consumes her focus. “You remember more? What else did they say? Did you talk to them? _See_ them?”

Chris takes a small step back in response to Kira’s sudden eagerness. “I… _vaguely_ remember seeing Sisko’s face, but nothing that he said—if he said anything. The only one who spoke was the one that looked like my friend from work. I know they’re your gods. I’m sorry I don’t have more to share.”

Kira nods as she watches a mixture of emotions vie for control of Chris’ face. “I didn’t mean to change the subject. I had to ask.”

“I know. It’s just… I get it.”

“No; I’m sorry. What else did your friend say?”

Chris scrunches his forehead as he tries to remember. “He only told me that… I wasn’t going home and they’d done all they could to get me ready.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

Chris shrugs. “I thought it was a dream. Now… all of this?”

Kira puts a hand on Chris’ shoulder and squeezes. “Are you up to seeing the Promenade? It’s busy this time of day. We can slow down. There’s a replicator in my quarters if you’d prefer.”

Chris takes a deep breath and straightens his posture. “No. I need to see it. I need to see the others.”

“Others?” Kira had been oblivious to it till now, but some of Chris’ eye contact hasn’t been with her eyes. She touches the ridges of her nose. “You’ve never seen anyone that’s not human.”

Chris shakes his head slowly. “Not in real life; no.”

“There’s going to be a lot of us up there.”

“I know, and I want to see them before I have too much time to think about it.”

Kira pats Chris’ shoulder. “Alright. If you’re sure you’re up to it. Let’s go.”

The final stretch to the turbolift is travelled quietly. They step on and Kira gives the command to be carried to the Promenade. She watches Chris stare blankly at the wall in front of him.

“I know it’s not much of a comfort,” Kira says, “but I’ll be right beside you.”

“With what the Prophets did for me… it is. Thank you.”

Kira is amazed at the relative comfort this stranger feels around her given she’s an ‘alien’ from his distant future. The effect has been contagious: the knowledge the Prophets gave Chris is already proving its worth. “Just let me know if you get uncomfortable. We can ditch the crowd anytime.”

"I'll be fine; really. And you know… I don't understand why being stuck here bothers me at all.” Chris looks down to study the floor. “I… I’d kinda hit a low. I used science fiction as an escape, and now… now I’m in the middle of it. I should be thrilled."

"We should talk about that ‘low’ sometime, Chris, but… rationalize it all you want; you've been taken from your home."

* * *

 

As the turbolift reaches the Promenade, Chris quickly replaces unease with wonder. Aliens walk casually through the Promenade—many more than were usually seen on the show. He recognizes several races, but he also spots a few he's never seen before.

“Whoa.”

“Are you…?” Kira stops herself. “I’m sorry I keep asking.”

“I’m… I’m OK. This... is… _amazing_.” Chris beams.

"In that case,” Kira says with a smile, “the replimat’s right over here. What would you like?"

Chris tries to think of foods he remembers from the show as they walk through the crowd. He ultimately settles on familiar fare. "Maybe a… large black coffee and a blueberry bagel?"

“That took some thought,” Kira says with an uncertain grin. “I think I can manage those. Here; hold this table and I’ll be right back.”

“Sure. Thanks,” Chris says as he takes a seat.

Sitting alone in the bustling Promenade, Chris doesn’t know where to look. The crowd of aliens is almost overwhelming, so he turns his attention to the upper level. The architecture is simultaneously fantastic and familiar, but the windows to space immediately command his gaze.

 _It’s going to take a while to get used to seeing_ that _._

Kira returns with a tray holding his bagel and coffee along with an unusual pastry, what looks like some fruit, and another mug which Chris assumes is raktajino. He forces a smile, despite feeling overwhelmed, to head off another query about whether he’s ‘OK’. Kira takes a seat and passes his requests across the table.

Chris blinks in surprise as he gets a whiff of the steaming bagel. “Wow. It’s like it just came out of an oven!”

“I can get you a cold one if you’d like,” Kira says as with a smile, “but that one seems to agree with you.”

Chris takes a deep breath of fresh, blueberry awesomeness. “It most certainly does.”

“You sure that’s all you want? It doesn’t look like much.”

“It may not look it, but these things have a _ton_ of calories. I’m trying to lose weight.” As soon as Chris finishes his sentence, he remembers the transformation he’s undergone.

“Lose weight?” Kira scoffs. “But you looked…” Kira blushes and quickly turns her eyes to her plate.

“Oh my god,” Chris says in shock. “You _saw_ me—before I woke up. You saw everyth…”

“In my defense,” Kira points, “I woke up with a stranger.”

As the pair fall into an awkward silence, Julian Bashir, who’d been waiting for an opportune moment, steps over to the table.

“Pardon the interruption,” Julian says as he looks back and forth between the two, “but my curiosity is piqued. Who is…?”

“Julian,” Kira says in a tone someone uses when trying to abandon a subject. “This is Chris. Chris… Julian.”

Julian holds a hand out for a shake. Chris stands to accept.

“You heard all of that, didn’t you,” Chris mumbles. His embarrassment outweighs the excitement of meeting another main ‘character’ from the station.

Julian nods but continues to shift his focus between Chris and Kira. “I did; and I imagine there’s a _fantastic_ story to be told.”

“Chris is a guest of the Prophets,” Kira says, hoping to steer the subject.

Julian looks Chris over with elevated curiosity. “A guest of the Prophets?”

Chris retakes his seat and points to one of the empty chairs. “Have a seat, doctor.”

Julian smiles at the invite and sits. He’s now keenly focused on Chris as he waits for clarification.

Kira works to push the conversation further from the topic of Chris’ arrival. “They’ve given him… _memories_ of us— _and_ the station. He’s never been here before this morning, but he remembers it as if he’s been here for years.”

Chris squirms in his seat at being put in the spotlight. “Not exactly. It’s… hard to explain.”

“Fascinating,” Julian says as he leans in and eyes Chris closely. “What kind of memories did they give you?”

Kira answers. “For one, he knew I’d seen my own grave on Gaia.”

“You did?” Julian blinks a queried eye at Kira before intensifying his stare at Chris.

“Exactly my point,” Kira says while throwing a hand in the air. “I didn’t tell anyone. Odo knew, but I don’t think he did either.”

“Do you have memories like this of everyone?” Julian asks Chris.

Chris shrinks under Julian’s scrutiny. “I uh… they’re mostly about the main cha… I mean… senior staff.”

“Excellent.” Julian’s face lights up with fascination. “What do you remember about me?”

“Uh…” Chris flounders. “You have, uh… a teddy bear?”

“I do,” Julian glances at Kira to gauge her reaction to the embarrassing trivia.

“You named it Kukalaka,” Chris adds with more confidence.

Kira stifles a short chuckle as Julian’s reaction clearly indicates a true statement.

“I, uh… didn’t know who know that already,” Chris says as he cringes.

“What else?” Julian asks after clearing his throat.

“About the bear?” Chris raises an eyebrow.

“Let’s move on from the bear.”

“OK. You’ve, uh… had some interesting run-ins with Section 31—an agent named Sloan.”

Julian narrows his eyes at Chris as he considers his next question carefully. “Do you know where Sloan is now?”

Chris blinks. “He’s um… is this a trick question?”

“What do you mean?” Julian feigns ignorance.

“Because as far as I remember… Sloan’s dead.”

Julian leans forward to stare at Chris more closely. “ _How_ did he die?”

“Haven’t you heard enough?” Kira jumps in to interrupt what’s become an interrogation. “Let the man eat his breakfast. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time to pick his brain later.”

Chris tilts his head at Kira. “That’s… kinda how Sloan died. Julian and Miles were ‘picking Sloan’s brain’. He killed himself to try and stop them from finding the cure to the morphogenic virus.”

“Is that true?” Kira’s eyes widen. “When you cured Odo, I…”

“We lied,” Julian says. “No one but Miles and the captain knows how we _really_ got the cure. Unless…” he eyes Chris with heightened suspicion, “… _you’re_ Section 31.”

Kira shakes her head. “Julian, we need to talk about Sloan and that virus sometime, but what Chris knows about Gaia proves he has knowledge beyond even _their_ reach.”

Julian’s scrutiny wanes only slightly. “Of course.”

“So, cut it out,” Kira glares.

“Sorry,” Julian says as he ends his intimidating lean.

Chris breathes a soft sigh of relief. “It’s OK. I still don’t quite believe it all myself.”

“Now,” Julian shifts his eyes between the others. “There was some talk about your physical condition?”

“Damn,” Kira mutters under her breath.

“I heard that,” Julian comments.

Chris’ face begins to flush.

“Now I’m _doubly_ intrigued,” Julian says with a grin. “What’s the story?”

Kira groans.

“The Prophets changed me,” Chris answers meekly. “Physically.”

“How’d they change you?” Julian asks. “And why does it trigger embarrassment for the both of you?”

“I’m… more ‘fit’ I guess you could say?” Chris cringes as he looks to Kira. “And I’m pretty sure she got a good look at the ‘after’ version.”

“Hey,” Kira scoffs. “You were in my bed when I woke up. I had _every_ right to know how badly I needed to hurt you for it.”

Chris looks at Julian out of the sides of his eyes. “I was… uh…”

“He was naked, Julian,” Kira says in a hushed tone. “In my bed.”

“Naked?” Julian blinks.

“I had _nothing_ to do with that,” Chris argues.

“I know that _now_ ,” Kira rolls her eyes.

“You almost gave me a heart attack when you shot at me.”

“You shot at him?” Julian says as the two carry on.

“I was angry,” Kira replies to Julian. “I had no idea he was from the past. I thought he might’ve…” Kira stops and sighs. “I’m… sorry, Chris. That must’ve been terrifying.”

“It’s alright,” Chris says with a nod. “I’m OK now.”

“The past?” Julian chimes in. “Did I catch that right?”

“The Prophets pulled him from over 300 years ago,” Kira says.

“It was 2015,” Chris specifies.

“358 years, depending on the month,” Julian says as he blinks in amazement. “How are you not…?”

“In shock?” Kira finishes his sentence. “For whatever reason, they brought him here to stay. They gave him those memories to get him up to speed, and… and _I’m_ supposed to help him fit in.”

“Huh?” Chris cocks his head at Kira. “You said they told you I was coming, but…”

“They told me to help you adapt—to keep an eye out for you.”

“Oh,” Chris lowers his gaze to the mostly untouched bagel on his plate. “Thanks.”

Julian clears his throat after catching a slight sobering to Chris’ tone. “That’s not to say any of us wouldn’t want to help you in _any_ event—given your situation.”

Kira blinks at Julian, then Chris. “I-I didn’t mean to make it sound like…”

“It’s OK,” Chris says as he looks up from his plate. “I know that’s not what you meant.”

“ _I_ know that’s not what she meant,” Julian says, “but I’ve known the colonel for seven years.”

“In a sense… so have I.”

“That is… _wonderfully_ peculiar,” Julian smiles.

“It’s going to take some getting used to, that’s for sure,” Kira nods. “Listen, I just remembered I haven’t filled anyone in as to why I discharged a weapon in the habitat ring. Finish your breakfast and perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let the doctor look you over. I’ll do my best to make time to give you a proper tour of the station later on.”

“I’d like that,” Chris smiles, but it vanishes instantly. “Your report…”

“I won’t bring it up,” Kira shakes her head. “But if they specifically ask what the ‘intruder’ was wearing I… I can’t promise anything.”

Chris groans.

“And I really am sorry—for shooting at you.”

Chris nods.

“You going to be OK with the doctor?”

Chris turns to see the fascinated expression on Julian’s face. “As long as he keeps in mind that I’m gonna be a bit nervous around medical technology of this century… I’ll be fine.”

Julian smiles at Kira. “He’ll be fine.”

Kira eyes Julian sternly. “Don’t let him get lost.”

“Of course not,” Julian assures her.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk, Chris,” Kira says with a pleasant smile and a pat on the arm. “I’ll catch up to you as soon as I can.”

Chris nods as Kira turns away. He stares after her until she disappears in the crowd. He turns back to find Julian wearing a subtle grin on his face.

“What?” Chris asks.

“I know that look,” Julian’s grin widens. “ _You_ … have an interest in the colonel.”

Chris scoffs. “I just got here; how could I…?”

Julian clicks his tongue. “You may have just arrived, but you said it yourself: you know us pretty well.”

“But…”

Julian taps his temple. “That means you know that I’m…”

“Genetically enhanced. So?”

“My perception is quite refined. That includes picking up on subtle body language.”

Chris glances back to where Kira had faded into the crowd. “I didn’t have memories of _any_ of this, or any of _you_ , before this morning.”

“That’s too bad, I think she rather likes you."

"What?!” Chris turns to Julian in surprise. “What makes you say _that_?"

"She was quite pleasant this morning."

"Are you forgetting something? she shot at me!"

“No…” Julian rolls his eyes. “Here in the replimat. Ever since Odo left, she’s been progressively… shall I say: _not_ pleasant. She actually smiled at you. That’s been a rare sight lately.”

Chris groans. “I think you’re reading too much into it. She’s just happy she got to speak with the Prophets.”

“Rubbish,” Julian says. “But time will tell. Grab your plate. You can finish while I start some tests. We’ll give you a good once-over.”

Chris rolls his eyes as he grabs his coffee and bagel.

* * *

**A/N**

A quick note about the nature of Chris’ false memories. He’s been fed memories of the TV show, but no surrounding resources or information. He hasn’t seen Wiki pages or other sites that would give him supplemental information on things like stardates.


	6. Assessments

**Chapter Six: Assessments**

Coffee and bagel in hand, Chris follows Julian to the infirmary. This spectacular experience still fresh, he marvels at seeing 'characters' and aliens from his memories in the flesh. He knows that his stares are blatant and impolite, but he simply can't help himself.

“Kira said not to get you lost,” Julian says as he takes a sweeping glance around the Promenade, “but I imagine the Prophets gave you knowledge of the station?”

“They did,” Chris mumbles through a bite of bagel, “but only certain parts of it.”

“Peculiar…” Julian says with a raised eyebrow. “I wonder why?”

Chris knows Julian is familiar with the concept of television from a two-part ‘episode’ where he and Sisko were trapped in the past. That, plus Julian’s enhanced intellect, makes Chris less apprehensive about repeating the explanation of how the Prophets fed him memories in the form of a TV show.

“Hmm… makes sense,” Julian says after hearing an abbreviated version of Chris’ tale. He leads Chris to an examination room in the infirmary. “If they were to show you the entire layout of the station, or feed you information on _everyone_ here, you’d be unlikely to accept it as a fictional production.”

“Are you familiar with shows of my time?”

“Not many _of_ your time, but I’m definitely familiar with fictional works _about_ your time.”

“Right… your spy novels.”

“They showed you those?”

“Only a couple,” Chris says as he scratches the back of his neck. “Like the one where some of the crew’s transporter signals were integrated into the program. Kira was… um…”

“Mm-hmm” Julian grins as Chris trails off. “That stood out for you, did it? Was it the Russian accent or the lacy gown?”

Chris scoffs loudly and rolls his eyes. “Will you get over it already?”

Julian chuckles and gestures for Chris to take a seat on an examination table. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go.”

“Thank you,” Chris sighs.

As Julian begins performing medical tests, he prods Chris to share more details of his arrival on the station. Though embarrassed by the ordeal, Chris obliges. Julian laughs heartily at the account of Kira’s reaction to his presence.

“I’m sure I’ll find it all absolutely _hilarious_ someday,” Chris sighs.

“I do apologize,” Julian says as he tries to stifle a lingering chuckle. “It seems Kira’s visage is burned into your mind for reasons far removed from what I theorized.”

Chris shrugs. “Sure, I think she’s pretty…”

Julian blinks expectantly.

“… but I thought she was trying to kill me.”

“It’s a miracle you survived,” Julian overdramatizes with a smirk.

“Hey, you weren’t there, I seriously thought I was a dead man.”

Julian’s smirk fades as he contemplates Chris’ claim. “I know she’s been on edge, but I seriously doubt she’d kill someone for simply…” Julian pauses and clears his throat.

“Maybe not kill, but she definitely wanted to hurt me. She told someone on the intercom that she’d be bringing me here.”

“I see,” Julian nods. “Good to see that her mood at breakfast was pleasant.”

“Well, yeah… because the Prophets.”

As the pair continue to chat, Chris is amazed to see props made real as Julian uses fantastic devices to assess his physical condition. Julian is polite in his cursory explanation of each.

After Chris completes an animated recount of his battle with a pair of pants, Julian chuckles and snaps his tricorder shut.

"You’ve had _quite_ the morning, Chris, but I’ve found no cause for concern. Other than residual signs of elevated levels of adrenalin, no doubt caused by this morning's encounter with the colonel, you seem to be in perfect health."

"That’s… crazy,” Chris mutters.

“Why is that crazy?” Julian asks.

“Because… before showing up here this morning I wasn't exactly  _in_  perfect health. Nothing serious, but I was… heavier. I… took medication for high cholesterol, and…" Chris slides up his left sleeve, "I used to have a scar here from a bike accident a while back. It’s completely gone. It's like I was some kind of lab rat and the Prophets were playing a game of 'This Old Mouse.'"

Julian responds with a blank stare. Chris knows his TV show pun was lost on the good doctor.

_It was also very, very stupid._

"Nevermind," Chris says and waves a hand dismissively. "I'm mainly wondering when this," he says as he spreads his hands across his newly flat stomach, "turns back into a pumpkin."

Julian chuckles, letting Chris know that some familiar references have stood the test of time.

"Cholesterol problems and scarring are readily corrected with the medicine of this time. However, I'm afraid that 'pumpkin' will return if you let it."

Chris sighs. "I wasn't exactly the most active person in the world. And I've always had a close relationship with food."

"In that case,” Julian says in his ‘serious doctor’ voice, “I can set up an exercise regimen and diet program to keep you in top shape. You know…” he says with a smirk, “I  _have_  been looking for a new racquetball partner."

"I may take you up on that,” Chris nods in contemplation. “But you'd have to teach me how to play.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

"So…” Chris says as he looks around at the displays Julian’s been working with during his exam, “there's no sign that the Prophets did anything… weird?"

"Define… weird."

"I don't know," Chris shrugs. "I just don't feel… like myself. It's strange to hear you say that I'm normal."

"Aside from the adrenaline levels, 'normal' is the most accurate description of my findings. The only way I could determine more is if I’d been able to examine you before the changes—for comparison. You have no idea why they did… whatever they did?"

Chris dismisses a faint flashback of chest pain. "Absolutely none."

"Well then," Julian smiles, "as far as I'm concerned, you're normal. If you have any further questions or concerns, come see me anytime."

Julian grabs something from a nearby counter and hands it to Chris. "Here. This PADD has a map of the station. Since the Prophets didn’t teach you the entire layout, this should keep you from getting lost.” He leans close and whispers. “If you do, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the colonel.”

“I won’t,” Chris shoots a glance to the door and whispers back. “As long as you promise not to tell anyone I showed up with no clothes.”

“Deal,” Julian nods with a smirk. “Now… I have more patients waiting to see me. Go and take a look around, but after the morning you’ve had, I suggest you take it easy out there.”

Chris stares at the PADD in his hands. The device somewhat resembles his tablet from back home but he has a hunch that it’s capable of much more. He spins the PADD and notices the layout changes such that what’s in front of him remains in front of him.

_Hmm. Like Google Maps… kind of._

Chris inspects the device a bit longer. "Um… am I the green dot?"

Julian scrunches his mouth and snaps his fingers as he's just handed Chris a piece of technology without making sure he could use it. "Yes, my apologies. You're the green dot. It's not every day we get visitors from the past, and when we do… they're not so calm about it."

Julian steps beside Chris and points to the screen. "The yellow dots are comm stations, blue for restrooms, white for turbolifts, and so forth. There’s a legend—here. You can also touch anything on the map for more information."

To try the feature, Chris taps the map location for the infirmary and watches a label appear: "Infirmary: The doctor is in."

"Cute," Chris quips. "Thanks, doctor."

“My pleasure. And please, call me Julian.”

“Thanks, Julian,” Chris says after dropping the sarcasm.

The two share a handshake and Chris catches sight of a ring. “Did, uh…you and Ezri get married?”

Julian holds up his hand to display the ring with pride. “We did. And given the number of Bajoran personnel on the station, the colonel’s a bit lax on…” Julian pauses and blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t,” Chris shakes his head. “My memories pretty much stop after Kira and Odo said goodbye.”

“Curious,” Julian ponders. “He left us several months ago. That also means you don’t know how poorly she’s taken that goodbye.”

Chris nods as he stares at nothing in particular. “I got a sense of that this morning. I was telling her things I remembered about him. I didn’t know. The show—rather the memories the Prophets gave me— made it seem like she accepted it.”

“She did—at first.”

“Hmm.” Chris unfurrows his brow and forces a smile. “Anyway… congratulations. I’ll let you get to the others. Thanks again, Julian. See you around.”

Julian nods politely as Chris slips from the examination table to leave.

When Chris reaches the outer room of the infirmary, he passes an Andorian walking the other way. He notices a bandage on one of the blue-skinned alien’s antennae.

Chris overhears Julian greet his latest patient. "Ah, Ensign Williams. How’s that head of yours today?"

* * *

 

Kira sits at her desk in Ops while Ezri Dax hovers nearby. After giving her an initial summary of how the Prophets brought a man to the station from the past, Kira has been providing more detail about the morning’s events. Ezri hangs on every word.

"Back up a minute!" Ezri says with surprise and a laugh. "Did you just say 'naked'?"

Kira dips her head in an exaggerated nod. "Unfortunately I did."

Ezri's jaw drops as she lets out a laughing scoff, "That's…"

Kira smiles and holds up a finger. "I don't know what you're about to say, and though I may find it amusing _now_ , I was  _livid_ at the time. I fired my weapon."

"Noooo. You didn't!” Ezri waits for more than a sheepish stare from Kira. “Did you?"

"I _wanted_ to stun his ass and throw him in the brig,” Kira says, “but instead I hit the wall about half a meter from his head. It served its purpose.” A satisfied grin forms on her face.

"And what purpose was that?"

“To scare the shit out of him.”

“Wh-Why?”

"Ezri, my mind had been with the Prophets. I had no idea what he may have done."

"But you said the Prophets sent him. You said they told you."

"I didn't know they meant _him_. You know how the Prophets speak; they…” Kira huffs. “All I knew was there was a naked man in my bed."

"Then… what made you stand down?"

Kira chews her lip as she sifts through memories of her chaotic morning. “He was rambling nonsense and I was losing my patience. After he took cover behind the bed I circled around to put him out. When I saw him huddled there… he was _terrified_. Then he called out my name.”

“That’s all it took—saying your name? Better not let _that_ get around,” Ezri jokes.

“Please,” Kira rolls her eyes. “It had to do with something the Prophets said. It was enough to keep me from pulling the trigger before the wormhole appeared.”

Ezri’s confused expression prompts Kira to explain further.

“With the station’s rotation, I shouldn’t be able to see it from my quarters for two more days. They wanted me… _us_ … to see it. Between him knowing my name and the appearance of the Celestial Temple… that’s when I knew he could be the one the Prophets told me about.”

“And he was naked,” Ezri smirks. “You apparently knew that too.”

Kira scoffs. “He grabbed a sheet to cover up. I would’ve stunned him and let security drag him out if he hadn’t.”

Ezri chuckles. “OK, so the wormhole opened. What happened next?”

Kira wrinkles her brow. “His reaction to it was… dramatic. He was _hypnotized_ by it—even muttered Sisko’s name.”

“He saw Benjamin?” Ezri’s voice is hopeful. She reflexively glances at the baseball on the desk.

Kira nods to the ball. “Chris said he saw his face, but they didn’t speak that he can remember. Maybe more will come to him later.”

“Oh,” Ezri expresses disappointment.

“But at one point he looked at me and…” Kira shudders at remembering the effect of Chris' knowing gaze. "No… he stared _into_ me and said almost the exact words a Prophet spoke—one that looked like Odo."

“Wow,” Ezri scrunches her forehead sympathetically. “That must’ve been tough. What did he say?”

“Nothing really, it was just…” Kira shakes her head, pushing the image of Odo from her mind. "It _was_ tough, but I'll be fine. And Chris seems… rattled but OK."

Ezri nods. "Good. I’ll check on him later, just in case."

"I was hoping you would," Kira nods. "He's with Julian now."

"I thought you said you didn't shoot him?” Ezri blinks. “Did you hurt him?"

"Of course not! Why would you think that?"

Ezri drops her chin and gives Kira an ornery look. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Not really," Kira smirks. "We just thought it’d be good for Julian to check him out. Chris said the Prophets ‘changed’ him."

"Changed? How?"

Kira shrugs. "He made it sound drastic, like he was a totally different person, but… he looked… fine." She slows and cringes at her own poorly-chosen words.

"Riiight. The naked man ‘looked fine’,” Ezri grins.

Kira clears her throat and points at Ezri to fend off the implication. "It was dark at first. He covered up. I did _not_ see everything you think I saw."

"Uh, huh. Sure," Ezri’s grin widens.

Kira shakes her head at her friend’s dirty mind while Ezri continues to grin to the point of being awkward.

"I  _didn't_ , OK?" Kira widens her eyes in disbelief. "I only saw enough to know that he was, you know…"

"Oh! I’m sorry," Ezri blinks. "My mind wandered."

"Wandered to _what_?"

"To the fact that…” Ezri smiles, “that I think I've seen you smile more in the last ten minutes than in the last ten days—that your mind doesn't seem to be stuck where it has been ever since… since _he_ left." Ezri nods to the photo in the corner of the room.

Kira follows Ezri’s gesture to the photo of her dance with Odo. Her expression saddens significantly. "I miss him, Ezri. I miss him very much. I haven't forgotten; I just… got distracted."

"You're going to call the Prophets dropping a naked man in your bed a ‘distraction’? Maybe… maybe it's their way of telling you to move on," Ezri shrugs. "Just a thought."

Kira looks at Ezri out of the top of her eyes. "They spoke to me, Ezri. The Prophets themselves  _spoke_  to me. They want me to be this man’s 'guide’, to help him adapt to what he must see as a strange new world. I would _never_ consider taking advantage of the situation just because I'm lonely—I'm not that selfish. And you should know I miss Odo too much to even _consider_ the thought."

“So, the naked part doesn’t mean anything,” Ezri states with marked sarcasm.

“Personally, I think it’s their way of symbolizing vulnerability—to emphasize that Chris needs help.”

“Pfft,” Ezri scoffs. “You and I see things differently. I haven’t seen the man, but I don’t think the first thing I grabbed would’ve been a phaser.”

Kira’s eyes pop. “Please tell me you’re kidding!”

Ezri shrugs with a smirk.

“I’m telling Julian you said that,” Kira says as a smile reappears on her face.

“Had you for a second,” Ezri laughs. “Besides, I don’t think Julian would believe I said it.”

“Well,” Kira smiles, “I guess you and I see things differently.”

Ezri chuckles after Kira uses her own words against her. “And that’s why I should go before I say anything that _really_ gets me in trouble.”

“Dax,” Kira takes a light hold of Ezri’s arm before she moves away from the desk. “We made light of it in here, but… I don’t think Chris would appreciate us telling anyone about…”

“Oh, goodness no,” Ezri shakes her head emphatically. “It sounds like he’s been through enough for one day.”

“I don’t just mean today,” Kira playfully scolds.

“A few days maybe?” Ezri grins.

Kira rolls her eyes. “Get out of here before I demote you.”

Ezri smiles and bids her friend goodbye.

After the doors slide closed behind Ezri, Kira thinks about what she said about not seeing her smile much recently, as well as the crazy notion that the Prophets brought Chris to fill the horrible void in her life. Kira scoffs to herself and dismisses the thought. The most Chris could _ever_ be is a distraction.

_No one could ever replace Odo._

Not long after Ezri’s departure, a security officer enters and hands Kira a PADD.

"Colonel, I gathered the data you requested."

With only a nod, Kira eagerly accepts the PADD.


	7. Lost and Found

**Chapter Seven: Lost and Found**

After leaving the infirmary, Chris wanders the Promenade. Despite being surrounded by aliens and windows to space, his thoughts linger on the doctor’s teasing.

_I think she’s attractive. So what? That doesn’t mean I have a ‘thing’ for her._

As he walks, Chris’ mannerisms broadcast the one-sided, defensive conversation in his mind.

_Hell, all the female characters were attractive: Leeta, Ezri, Keiko, Kasidy… OK, there was Winn, but she was old and evil. So glad I don’t have to meet_ that _woman._

Chris stops abruptly, causing a Bajoran man to bump his shoulder.

“My apologies,” the man says.

“My fault; Sorry,” Chris replies as the man walks on.

Chris removes himself from the flow of traffic to continue thoughts.

_Anyone who’s ‘died’ wasn’t just a character being written off the show. They really… died. Winn, Damar, Jadzia…_

Chris blinks his eyes back into focus and finds himself under the scrutiny of a security officer across the Promenade. He decides it’s time to move on, but not before attempting to put his nagging thoughts to rest.

_She shoved a gun in my face for god’s sake!_

Grumbling and shaking his head, Chris resumes his wandering.

* * *

While attempting a self-guided tour of Deep Space Nine, Chris experiences sensations of déjà vu that are strong and unnerving in locations featured in the TV show. He finds himself completely at a loss in others.

_A travel agency? A florist? A beauty salon? Now a Bajoran grocery? Sure, they make sense, but… why didn’t the Prophets shove any memories of those in my head while they were at it?_

Chris looks up from his PADD and scratches his head.

_Wait… is that the_ same _replimat I just saw, or is there more than one?_

While exploring the Promenade, Chris has gotten turned around more than once.

_The station being_ round _doesn’t help._

Paying more attention to his PADD, Chris slowly discovers the difference between 21st and 24th century navigation devices.

_Whoa… this thing knows which way_ I’m _facing, not just which way_ it’s _facing._

To confirm his observation, Chris rotates the PADD in his hands, spins slowly in place, then walks in a tight circle while staring intently at the screen. He begins to feel the weight of stares upon him and is quickly overcome with self-consciousness. He tucks the PADD under his arm and walks swiftly to another area of the Promenade.

_The first impression I’m making is that I’m an idiot._

Chris decides to take a break from exploring to sit down and ‘people’ watch. He finds it simultaneously wondrous and discomforting to see so many aliens calmly go about their day. Humans, Bajorans, Klingons, and other races walk about. Some of the alien races he doesn’t know the name for, but Chris remembers Julian’s logic.

_Did the Prophets really limit what they taught me to make it more believable? If that’s the case, why is some of what they_ did _show me so fuzzy?_

Chris tries to recall when it was that he binge-watched the series on Netflix.

_Idiot… I never did. But I remember like I did—some memories are clear, some are foggy. Was that intentional, or is that just how the brain works?_

Chris closes his eyes and rubs his temples

_I’m giving myself a headache! I was out of commission for a long time; maybe some things aren’t clear because my brain has some sort of freezer burn._

Chris recalls the very vivid memories that surfaced during his morning encounter with Kira.

_What was up with_ that _? Was that a symptom of my new memories taking hold, or… is Julian onto something and my brain latched onto memories of her more strongly?_

Chris sighs and quickly follows it with a groan.

_Why do I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time on a couch in Ezri’s office?_

Chris opens his eyes to find a small group of Cardassians walking by—immediately distracting him from his thoughts. He remembers that the Cardassian people turned against their oppressive Dominion ‘allies’ at the end of the war.

_That’s right… they’re ‘good guys’ now—I think._

Given the months-long gap in the memories the Prophets provided, Chris wonders if even the Vorta and Jem’Hadar have made peace with the races of the Alpha Quadrant. Odo left Deep Space Nine to rejoin the Founders, who rule the Vorta and Jem’Hadar as gods, specifically to cure their disease and change their view of solids.

_I doubt they’d change their views so quickly. If I see any Jem’Hadar… I should run._

Frustrated by his dizzying thoughts, Chris decides to return to his haphazard exploration of the station.

As out of place as he feels, Chris finds that he draws far less attention than he’d expect. He’s no longer spinning in circles while staring at a PADD, but he still feels like a tourist with how often he stops to check his map and gawk at his surroundings.

_I might as well be wearing a fanny-pack and have a camera around my neck. Though… I guess Deep Space Nine is_ always _full of travelers._

As was proven with his PADD, Chris stands out the most when confronting 24th century technology. He wonders why the Prophets didn’t given him more insight on how to use a comm station, turbolift, or replicator. All Chris can remember from the show is that some things accept voice commands and some things require physical interaction. He tries to inconspicuously watch others use these devices, but it’s quickly apparent that mere observation isn’t going to cut it.

_Eventually I’m going to have to demonstrate my ignorance._

Chris sighs and continues to wander.

* * *

Senta waits patiently as Kira looks over the PADD he just delivered. After several moments, the colonel groans emphatically.

“There’s so much here,” Kira says as she looks up at the security officer. “And you’re sure this is everything?”

Senta responds with a quick nod. “Within the time-frame you provided, yes.”

Kira resumes her inspection of the PADD, leaving Senta to once again stand quietly. After nearly a minute of silence, he musters the courage to interrupt her intense study. “Colonel… sir?”

“Hmm?” Kira looks up with distant eyes, seemingly oblivious to the officer’s continued presence.

“The, uh, security call this morning? The phaser fire? We still haven’t received…”

“Oh! That!” Kira rolls her eyes at herself. “I have a… a ‘guest’ on the station. It was unannounced. There was a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine now. I’ll, uh… I’ll file a formal report later.”

Senta blinks as he considers the line between authority and proper protocol.

Kira raises the PADD and nods to the door. “Thanks again, Senta. You’re dismissed.”

Senta abandons his reservations about accepting Kira’s vague explanation for an excited call to security and weapon discharge on the station. “Yes, sir.”

Before Senta even turns to leave, Kira buries her eyes in the data on the PADD.

* * *

Chris’ exploration of the Promenade inevitably leads him past Quark’s bar. Despite being early in the day, yells of “Dabo!” emanate from inside. Already feeling overwhelmed by aliens and 24th century technology, he decides against venturing inside. Chris isn’t the biggest fan of attention, and Quark’s bar has ‘attention’ written all over it.

_Maybe later—_ much _later._

Another, louder exclamation of “Dabo!” escapes the bar, close on the heels of a staggering human.

“I guess it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Chris quips to himself as he watches the intoxicated man stumble.

“Excuse me?” A voice behind Chris asks.

“Huh?” Chris spins around to seek the source of the familiar voice. “Jake?”

Jake Sisko isn’t fazed by a stranger speaking his name. The son of the Emissary is known to practically everyone on the station. If anything, he’s gotten _more_ attention since his father took up permanent residence within the Celestial Temple. In the eyes of many Bajorans, Jake Sisko is no longer the son of the Emissary—he’s the son of a Prophet.

“That’s me,” Jake says, offering a quick nod, “but… what you just said: that it’s five o’clock somewhere? I’ve heard my grandfather say that—back on Earth. He said it was an old expression. Are you…?” Jake pauses to eye Chris closely. “Have you seen my father?”

Chris knows why he recognizes Jake, but he has no idea why Jake recognizes _him_.

“You know who I am?”

“Kind of. Not exactly,” Jake answers impatiently. “Have you seen him?”

Chris is surprised by Jake’s eagerness. “It’s a little complicated, Jake,” he says as he rubs his forehead. “I, uh… think I _saw_ him briefly, but I haven’t actually _met_ him. Though… somehow… I _know_ him?”

Jake’s expression is an odd mix of hope and disappointment. “But you came from the past, right? The Prophets brought you here. Your name’s Chris?”

“Yes, I…” Chris squints and cocks his head. “How do you know that? Did one of the others tell you?”

“Others?”

“Kira and Julian. They’re the only ones who know… where I’m from.”

Jake shakes his head. Chris is getting a taste of what Kira and Julian have experienced today: someone inexplicably knowing things about you. It’s an uncomfortable feeling.

“No, I… I had a dream last night,” Jake says. “At least, I _thought_ it was a dream at first. I was fishing with my father. We were just… together for most of it—like we did before we came to Deep Space Nine.”

Chris can tell that Jake enjoyed that part of his dream immensely.

“But after a while,” Jake continues, “he started talking about the Prophets—and something he was working on. It’s a bit jumbled, but I’m sure he was talking about you.”

Chris’ spirits jump. “Did he tell you why I’m here? Am I really here forever? Do you know why they changed me?”

Jake is taken aback by Chris’ enthusiastic questions. Chris feels guilty as Jake’s disappointment becomes more apparent—that he was hoping to hear more about his father, not answer Chris’ questions.

“Sorry, Jake,” Chris apologizes for his outburst. “This has been a bit crazy, to put it mildly, and so far… I don’t have many answers.”

Jake sighs. “He must’ve known I’d run into you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He was going on about some stuff I didn’t really care about. I think it was intended more for your benefit.”

“Ah.”

“Before I forget,” Jake says, “he wanted me to say… ‘sorry about the bed’. What does that mean?”

“Uh…” Chris blushes. “I’m sure you’ll hear about _that_ fiasco soon enough.”

“But…?” Jake starts.

“I’m not going to talk about it, Jake. At least… not now.”

Jake huffs in disappointment.

“Look,” Chris says, “I’m sorry. It’s… embarrassing. Maybe another time.”

Jake relents with a nod.

“Did your dad tell you what he was working on?”

Jake shrugs. “I think he was helping you. He didn’t go into much detail.”

“Do you know how I know your name?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Who doesn’t?” He immediately blinks in realization. “Oh, right… you’re from the past. So, if you didn’t talk to my father, how…?”

Chris taps his temple. “For whatever reason I’m here, your dad and the Prophets gave me a lot of information about this station— _and_ the people here.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Beyond names and faces, things like…” Chris tilts his head back as he searches his fake memories. “One time, you and your dad flew a light ship together.”

“We didn’t just fly it, we _built_ it,” Jake smiles. “What else do you know about my father?”

“Can I make you a deal?”

“Are you going to tell me about…?”

“The bed? Absolutely not. But I do have seven years’ worth of memories up here we can talk about, and I’d _love_ to know more about what your dad was going on about in your dream.”

* * *

Jake and Chris have claimed a table in the replimat. Jake sips hot tea while Chris drinks from a tall glass of iced tea. Chris makes a disgusted face.

“Something wrong?” Jake asks.

“I should’ve asked for sweet.” Chris smacks his lips and makes a subtle gagging sound.

“We can…”

“Oh, no,” Chris interrupts. “I don’t want to put you through _that_ again.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find a soda—or whatever you called it.”

“And I’m sorry I got frustrated. Besides, they’re not good for you anyway.” Chris takes another sip of his tea. “This is fine.”

Jake chuckles. “It doesn’t _look_ like it’s fine.”

“There’s going to be a lot of new things to get used to. I gotta start somewhere.”

Jake stares at Chris for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re really from the past.”

“Me either,” Chris says after he takes another drink and puckers. “So tell me, what did your dad say about me? Did he tell you how long ago I’m from?”

Jake’s expression darkens and he fidgets with his mug. “No, but he uh… told me you… died.”

Chris struggles to not choke on his tea. “Died?”

Jake nods slowly.

Chris stares at Jake in shock. A flashback of pure white and intense pain prompts him to place a hand on his chest. “I had a heart attack.”

Jake nods again. “He said the Prophets manipulated a lot of things, and a lot of people, to make him the Emissary. They started ‘borrowing’ people long before he was born. Most were put back but…”

“Why return a corpse,” Chris says with a frown.

“I guess,” Jake shrugs. “He said when you died, you… froze.”

Chris stares at the ice cubes in his tea. “For 350 years.”

“Wow,” Jake blinks at the number.

“But I’m fine now. Why didn’t they put me back now that I’m fine?”

Jake distorts his face as he tries to remember the words of his father. “I think the way he put it was… like a house of cards. Do you…?”

Chris nods “I follow.”

“OK, so… if what they did to make dad the Emissary is like a house of cards, putting you back would make it all fall apart. They’d have to start all over again.”

“They did it once…”

“Right, I remember, but… dad said that it would mean more people dying or… never existing. He was pretty upset that he didn’t know what sending that one Bajoran back would mean. He thought putting you here would limit the consequences.”

“I see,” Chris nods as he considers the scale of the butterfly effect in play. “It had to be the future. It had to be after he went to live in the wormhole. I guess that’s why there’s a gap.”

“A gap?”

“Yeah. The, uh… the ‘memories’ he gave me end when he went to be with the Prophets.”

“That was…”

“A few months ago—according to Julian.”

Jake nods.

“And the heart attack must explain why they did this,” Chris says as he looks down at his chest and stomach.

“Did what?”

Chris looks up at Jake and shrugs a shoulder. “They… changed me—quite a bit.”

“Really? What’d they do?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly… as fit as I am right now. They didn’t just fix my heart, they fixed… pretty much _everything_. Maybe all this was further compensation for never being able to go back.”

Jake shrugs.

“Anyway…” Chris says as he picks up his glass. “Let me tell you some of what I remember about your dad.”

* * *

Jake and Chris spend a lot of time in the replimat. Chris shares the format in which Jake’s father chose to share the massive amounts of information the Prophets fed him, and they laugh about the trouble that Jake and Nog used to get themselves into on the station. They talk long enough that they decide to share lunch.

“I wonder why my father didn’t show you how to use a replicator?” Jake asks after they retake their seats.

“Mmm,” Chris mumbles as he hastily swallows a bite of a turkey sandwich. “I’ve been thinking about that. None of the memories involve _me_ —obviously. I think it must not’ve been possible to teach me skills with how they did what they did. I’m going to guess it’s more a limitation of the brain than their ability.”

“Sure,” Jake shrugs. “And just so you know, some of the replicators on the station haven’t been retrofitted yet. For those you’ll be limited to voice commands—unless you can read Cardassian. Did the Prophets teach you that by any chance?”

Chris shakes his head. “Not that I know of. I guess I’ll find out when I see some.”

“It’s all over the place. You should’ve noticed.”

“Then I guess I can’t.”

“So, if you couldn’t use a replicator, how were you getting around?”

“Hmm?” Chris questions with a full mouth.

“Have you used a turbolift?”

Chris chews and swallows while eyeing his PADD with the station map. “Kira brought me here. I’ve been… sticking to the Promenade.”

“There’s more to the station than the Promenade. I can show you later.”

Having taken another large bite of his sandwich, Chris answers only with a nod and a thumbs up.

Jake smiles. “Looks like that sandwich turned out better than the tea.”

Chris nods emphatically. “Mm-hmm.”

The two continue to talk while finishing their lunch. After polishing off his sandwich, Chris leans back, grabs his stomach, and lets out a long sigh.

“You look beat,” Jake says, still on a high from talking about his father.

“Yeah, I could use a break from… this.” Chris makes a sweeping gesture with his eyes, referring to the Promenade in general. “Do you think you can teach me how to use one of those comm stations?”

“Sure, there’s one right over here.”

* * *

 

Kira is still pouring over the report Senta delivered when the comm system chimes.

_Dammit. What am I missing?_

Kira knows there’s something important buried in the data but it eludes her. She drops the PADD in frustration and glances at the comm system speaker.

_Why the hell aren’t they talking yet?_

"This button?" she finally hears Chris' voice say.

"Yeah, that's the one. Press it." Kira recognizes Jake's voice, but more distant.

"I already pressed it. What now?"

"Now say who you want to talk to."

Kira's frustration melts. She smiles and shakes her head as she pictures the two men fumbling with a comm panel. She knows she gets to hear every word they’ve said from the time Chris pressed the button to the time he spits out her name. The fact is a given because the system would not have patched it to her office otherwise.

"Umm, Kira Nerys?"

Kira laughs to herself and is grateful that was all the longer she had to wait.

"Yes, Chris,” Kira says with a grin. “How are you holding up? I hear Julian let you loose on the station."

"I'm… managing. Jake’s been a big help. Um… I've been up here for quite a while, and I was wondering where the best place might be to take it easy and… reflect on the day?"

Kira realizes that after their chaotic introduction and leaving him with Julian, she’d made no arrangements for Chris's stay. She’s completely failed to address the basic needs of a guest on the station.

_Doing a bang-up job, Nerys._

"I'm sorry, Chris. I should’ve already arranged quarters for you. I'll contact security right away and make sure they give you something close to mine. I'm sure Jake can show you the way to the security office. They’ll set you up in the personnel system and show you your quarters—OK?"

"That’ll be great; thank you, Kira. Chris out."

There’s only a short pause before Kira hears Chris' voice again. "Did I say that right? Do I have to do anything else?" Kira can tell these words are directed at Jake.

"You've been holding the button this whole time?” Jake’s voice responds. “A channel will stay open until one person or the other ends it with a button or voice command, but not if you're still holding that."

"Oh. Well crap. Bye!"

There’s another hesitation before a beep indicates the end of the transmission. Kira chuckles before letting out a sigh.

As promised, Kira contacts security to give them instructions for Chris' accommodation. Despite his status as a civilian, she instructs them to issue him a combadge as well.

Turning from the comm display, Kira eyes the PADD resting on her desk. The lingering smile from Chris and Jake's clumsy communication fades.

* * *

 

Jake points over Chris’ shoulder to security.

“It’s right over there,” Jake says. “They can teach you how to use a turbolift when they show you your quarters.”

"Thanks for your help, Jake. I'm glad you got to see your dad."

Jake nods and holds out his hand. "Thanks. I just wish I’d known it wasn’t a dream sooner. It’s been nice talking with you, Chris. I’ll see you around."

After a firm handshake, Jake heads off around the Promenade and Chris walks over to the security office.


	8. Settling In

**Chapter Eight: Settling In**

After parting ways with Jake, Chris makes his way to the open doors of the security office. As he gets closer, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Kira’s face on a monitor within. As the screen darkens, an unfamiliar security officer turns to face the open doors. Even though Chris is technically new to the station, he is acutely aware of Odo’s absence. It’s strange to see someone else in his chair.

Having turned from the communication screen, the security officer’s eyes focus and narrow as Chris approaches. It slowly sinks in that this will be the first true stranger Chris will have to interact with on the station. He puts on an uneasy smile and raises a hand in an awkward wave to fend off the officer’s martial scrutiny as he closes the distance to the desk.

“May I help you?” the officer asks without a hint of pleasantry.

“Uh, yeah,” Chris responds meekly to the cold greeting. “The, um… Kira sent me? I believe you were just talking to her on the… thing over there?”

Chris points to the monitor, but the officer maintains direct eye contact with Chris.

“Your name?” the officer asks flatly, refusing to acknowledge Chris’ gesture or mention of the colonel.

“Chris. She said you could assign me quarters and…”

“Very well,” the officer cuts him off, seemingly satisfied that Chris is the man he was told to expect. “Take a seat. I’ll need you to answer some questions so I can enter you into the system.”

Chris takes a seat and sits uncomfortably as the officer turns his focus to a panel on the desk. After only a few seconds of fidgeting in his chair, Chris breaks the cold silence. “So… what does it mean to be ‘entered into the system’?”

The officer’s chiseled features don’t display annoyance, but Chris hears it in his tone all the same.

“You won’t be able to use your combadge, or receive _any_ personal communication, until the station computer recognizes you and your location.”

“I’m getting a combadge?” Chris’ face lights up.

The officer slowly blinks half-opened eyes. “I _have_ been instructed to issue you a combadge.”

“Awesome,” Chris smiles.

“The colonel wishes to keep tabs on you,” the officer squints further. “As do I.”

Chris shrinks in his chair. “Oh.”

“Also,” the officer says as he hands a PADD across the desk, “personnel records are recorded, maintained, and utilized in accordance with station regulations and procedures—of which you should become familiar.”

Chris accepts the PADD and groans at the screen full of miniscule text.

“Is there a problem,” the officer asks without the inflection of a question.

“N-not at all.”

“In that case…” the officer clears his throat, “I need you to answer the following questions to the best of your ability.”

Leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees, Chris clasps his hands together and nods.

“Name?”

“Chris.”

The officer blinks once—slowly and deliberately. He wears a stern but otherwise blank expression. “ _Full_ name.”

“Sorry.” Chris shakes his head at himself. “Christopher Michael Simmons.”

“Human. Male. Correct me if necessary.”

Chris shakes his head.

“Date of birth?”

“April 10th, 1978.”

“Stardate?”

Chris shrugs. “I have no idea.”

The officer lets out an emphatic sigh. “Very well. I’ll have the computer convert it when we’re through. Point of origin?”

“Twenty-three fifty-four Martin Street, apartment 3C…” Chris trails off as the officer looks up from the panel to eye him with disdain. He tries again. “Earth?”

“Thank you.”

Chris takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh.

_Yep… I’m an idiot._

The officer continues to speak while typing on his console. “A birthdate in stardate format would calculate your age automatically, but since we haven’t…”

“36,” Chris interrupts the officer, wanting to redeem his poor first impression by anticipating an easy question. “I’m 36. But… when you convert that date I gave you, it won’t come out to 36. Did Kira mention that I…”

The officer is quick to regain control of the conversation by interrupting Chris in return. “The colonel _did_ mention that a temporal anomaly is involved. I’ve made note of it.”

Chris can only wonder how often “temporal anomalies” must occur to warrant no more than a footnote in a personnel record. The officer expresses no surprise or curiosity whatsoever. Perhaps it’s just the nature of being part of a security force near a wormhole with deadly aliens on the other side and godly aliens on the inside.

Chris struggles through several more questions and is grateful when the officer signals that he’s satisfied with the information gathered. Not a moment too soon, as Chris believes he was close to reaching the limit of the officer’s patience.

Chris slouches in his chair and rubs his temples while the officer presses some buttons on his panel and opens a compartment to remove a combadge. Chris perks up at the sight of it.

“This is not a _toy_ ,” the officer says flatly as he holds the badge up for Chris to see clearly.

“Of course not,” Chris says, “I just… nevermind.”

The officer makes it clear that the device is now linked to Chris’ personnel record. “Do not lose it,” he says as if speaking to a child. “If you do, a replacement can only be acquired from _me_. I can assure you, the process of securing a replacement is much less cordial.”

Chris nods as the officer places the combadge in his hand.

The badge is the same design as those worn by Kira and other Bajoran personnel, including security. As he marvels at it, the officer launches into a fast-paced, well-rehearsed description of its operation—much like a flight attendant going through a pre-flight safety presentation. Chris is unable to catch everything the officer says, but he isn’t about to bother the man to repeat it.

“Now, if you would follow me,” the officer says as he stands, “I will lead you to your quarters.”

Chris follows the officer closely through the busy Promenade to not get separated. Despite having travelled the reverse path earlier with Kira, Chris has no idea where he’s going. He does his best to observe the officer’s operation of the turbolift as he has no intention of asking more questions of this man than necessary. He’s very grateful for the map PADD Julian provided, as it may give him a fighting chance of finding his way to the Promenade again.

Though the hallway they end up in doesn’t look familiar to Chris in the least, the officer stops in front of a door.

“Here you are,” the officer states plainly. “The colonel’s quarters are four doors down on the same side.”

The officer points down the hallway and waits for a nod of acknowledgement from Chris. As the officer opens the door in front of them, Chris pays very close attention to how he does so.

_The last thing I need is to get stranded outside my new apartment._

“If there’s anything else you need, the colonel has asked that you contact her directly.”

“Thank you… sir.” Chris suddenly realizes he never caught the officer’s name. Since both men seem eager to part ways, he doesn’t bother to ask. “I think I’m good for now.”

Chris sighs and feels himself relax as the intense officer nods and walks away.

* * *

Walking through the doorway of his new home, Chris is quickly aware of the stark contrast between the bustle of the Promenade and the silence of his quarters. A quick scan of the room reveals simple furniture and décor, a replicator, a doorway to a bedroom, and windows to the vast sea of stars surrounding the station.

Chris tosses his PADDs on a table and approaches one of the windows. He strains to see as much of the station’s structure as he can, including a docking pylon on the far right of his field of view.

_This thing is massive!_

As Chris is gawking through the window, an object blinks into existence in the distance.

“Whoa.”

Looking more closely, Chris realizes he just witnessed a federation ship dropping out of warp.

“Amazing…” Chris says aloud as he watches the ship approach. “Looks like a Galaxy class.”

Chris blinks at himself, still not used to drawing from memories that aren’t real. He watches in awe as the large ship drifts silently towards the station. The ship seems to be headed to one of the upper docking pylons.

Chris strains to read the large characters visible on the bottom of the saucer section before it glides out of view. “NCC-71854. USS Venture.”

Chris pulls his face away from the glass. He feels like a small child who’s just seen his first hippopotamus at the zoo.

_I knew these things were big, but… damn._

“I need a beer.”

Chris walks over to the replicator and hunts through the menu. After a few haphazard button presses, he looks down at his newly slim waist. He recalls his New Year’s resolution list that was abandoned in a ‘cozy’ apartment 350 years ago.

“Orange juice,” Chris hears himself mutter as he closes his eyes and leans against the machine. When he opens them again, a large glass of orange juice is waiting. He raises the glass and takes a cautious sip. He shakes his head at the replicator.

_This thing… is incredible._

Chris recalls the amazing turkey sandwich he had for lunch and considers the fact that he can ask for anything he wants, anytime he wants it.

_This new body is screwed._

Chris pulls a chair from the dining table in the room and turns it to face the windows. He sits and stares at the stars as he tries to process the events of the day.

It isn’t long before one of nature’s gentle reminders catches Chris’ attention and he realizes he hasn’t used the restroom once since arriving on the station. Thinking about it, he can’t recall the show giving any evidence that the station even _has_ bathrooms, and he failed to investigate any of the blue dots on the map Julian provided.

Chris walks through his quarters to find another door in the bedroom which he assumes must lead to the bathroom. The panel by the door is slightly different than the one in the hall, so he blindly presses buttons until the door slides open. He cautiously peeks inside.

_I have no freaking clue what I’m looking at._

Chris rubs a hand down his face before reluctantly tapping his combadge for the first time.

“Chris to Kira,” he says nervously. “Help?”

What ensues is one of the most awkward and embarrassing conversations Chris has ever had. It helps that he’s talking over the comm system and doesn’t have to watch this woman explain how to use a 24th century space toilet. He’s very glad she can’t see his mortified expression.

_I sure hope she’s alone right now._

“Chris,” Kira’s utterance of his name pulls him back from his wandering thoughts. “Consider that we use artificial gravity on this station. Now imagine if things were any different and it failed.”

“Eww.”

“Exactly.”

Chris can tell his reaction almost coaxed a chuckle.

“Now,” Kira continues. “I need to stay in Ops a while longer. I’ll try and stop by around 1600 to see how you’re doing. Try and get some rest; I’m sure you could use it.”

“I could. Thanks, Kira.”

“And Chris. Call me Nerys.”

“Thanks, Nerys,” Chris says again for the sake of trying out her ‘given’ name.

After the transmission ends, Chris finds he’s smiling in response to Kira’s direction to address her by her more personal name. He scoffs.

_Dammit, Julian. This is your fault._

Chris blows out a long breath as he crosses his arms and stares into the bathroom. He carefully recounts the conversation before braving the facilities.

After washing his hands and returning to the main room of his quarters, Chris is happy to find another item he can’t recall seeing on the show: a clock. Though it isn’t very late in the day, he feels like he’s been awake for an eternity.  He gets comfortable on the couch, situated under a window to the stars, and notes the time: 1317.

Closing his eyes, Chris quickly falls asleep.

 


	9. Housewarming

**Chapter Nine: Housewarming**

Chris is surrounded by white—pure, stark white.

 _Shit. Not_ this _again._

Chris searches the sea of white for any sign of shape or shadow. Unlike his previous experience in the Celestial Temple, recognizable sounds fade in around him: cars on a street, snow crunching under boots, muffled voices, and a faint electrical hum.

The thick veil of white dissolves and lifts like a fog. Chris finds himself on a snow-covered sidewalk, looking up at the large neon sign of Phil’s Diner.

_Oh yeah… I was supposed to meet Mike for lunch! I hope I didn’t miss him._

Chris approaches the door and kicks the snow from his boots. As he reaches for the handle, the entire door simply fades away. Unfazed, he walks calmly towards the counter which is grossly over-done with chrome, stainless steel, and neon.

“Hey Chris!” Mike’s voice calls out. “You sure took your sweet time getting here! Hope you don’t mind I started without you.”

Without moving to take a seat, Chris is suddenly perched on a padded bar stool. He turns to face Mike, who is sitting next to him at the counter with a large cheeseburger in his hands—bits of bacon visible in the bun.

“That’s OK, Mike,” Chris says. “Traffic was killing me.”

“It can do that if you’re not careful,” Mike mumbles with his mouth half-full. “Did you remember your list?”

“Yeah; It’s right here.”

Chris’ spiral notebook sits on the counter in front of him. He picks it up with both hands and inspects it more closely. He recognizes the violent scribbles over his ex-wife’s name and the sloppily-edited weight-loss goal. There are blurry markings on the lines that follow and, with some effort, he blinks them into focus one by one.

_A drunk driver is coming._

_They’re running the light._

_You’re going to die._

Chris is startled by the sound of a car horn. Instead of his list, his hands now grip the steering wheel of his old Honda. His eyes snap to the rear-view mirror to spy the impatient driver behind, but his attention is quickly stolen by the sound of a roaring engine to his left. Chris turns his head just in time to see the chrome grill of a black luxury sedan barreling towards his driver-side door.

Chris grips the steering wheel to brace himself, but the violent impact dislodges his hands—his arms flail wildly. Shattering glass deafens as Chris’ left arm is crushed by the crumpling door. He cries out in pain.

* * *

“Chris!”

Chris’ eyes spring open to meet those of a startled Kira Nerys.

“Whoa!” Chris jumps from surprise and the fresh terror of impact. He looks down to find that Kira has a firm grip on his arm.

“It’s OK! It’s OK. It was a nightmare. You’re safe.” Kira’s tone softens as she speaks—an effort to calm them both.

Chris’ heart races and his hands continue to shake from the fright.

“Must’ve been quite a dream,” Kira says as she nods to a broken glass on the coffee table. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Having followed Kira’s gesture to the glass, Chris’ eyes clumsily meander across her red uniform before making eye contact. “N-no. I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

“You didn’t answer your door,” Kira motions over her shoulder with a twitch of her head. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Chris pries his eyes from Kira’s to spy the open door to the hall.

_Oh, right… she can override station locks._

Chris shakes his head in answer while placing a hand on the deceptively delicate-looking one still clutching his arm. He squeezes gently.

“Thank you, Nerys.”

Even though the nightmare has passed, Chris’ heart still pounds. He can only assume it’s due to the compassionate act and intimate view of this ‘fictional’ character that knelt close to wake him. Everything about Kira is as he remembers from the show: an elaborate earring adorns her ear, red lipstick contrasts her fair complexion, and ridges on the bridge of her nose serve as a reminder that she’s not exactly human. But her eyes… those big, beautiful brown eyes have more depth at this moment than the void of space beyond the windows. Kira Nerys is absolutely stunning.

_Was Julian right?_

Chris tries to shroud his enamored stare with an observation. “Your hair. It’s, uh… more season six than seven. Did you decide to, um…?” He loses his words as he reconnects with Kira’s eyes.

_Damn, she’s beautiful._

Chris' stare has been too long, too intense. He's begun to subconsciously caress the hand beneath his. Kira’s brow wrinkles and the corners of her mouth curl downward.

Chris frowns at Kira’s discomfort. “I’m sorry. I…”

Kira quickly pulls her hand away and stands. “I’ll get something for the spill,” she says as she turns and takes quick steps to the replicator.

Chris stammers as he tries to process what just happened. “Nerys, please,” he manages as he sits up on the couch. “Wait a minute.”

Kira halts with her back to Chris. She lowers her head and makes fists with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Chris apologizes again. “I-I’d like to explain.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to hear it,” Kira says without turning.

Chris sighs and speaks anyway. “You know… I _love_ television shows, but something about them always frustrated me.”

“Chris…”

“You watch people take on roles and play out scripted events. You see feelings hurt because someone opens their stupid mouth—or because someone doesn’t. You’re powerless as you watch them do all the wrong things because… it’s _just_ a TV show. All you can do is yell at the screen: ‘Tell her how you feel, you idiot.’”

“Don’t…” Kira says softly. Her fists tighten.

“As hard as it’s been for me to believe it, this _isn’t_ a TV show—this is _real_. And I’m going to take my chances and open my stupid mouth.”

“Chris,” Kira turns to face him with a scowl. “I said…”

“Please,” Chris plows ahead, “I have to, or I’m afraid this misunderstanding will only get worse.” He stands and points to the couch behind him. “What just happened was unexpected—for _both_ of us. Technically, I had no knowledge of your _existence_ until this morning. I’m trying to process memories that aren’t my own. I’m supposed to trust my feelings based on that?”

Kira relaxes her posture and lets out a sigh.

Chris spots movement beyond the open door to the hall. He chooses to ignore it.

“I have to wonder…” Chris continues. “The Prophets picked you to be my… guide, or host, or… whatever. Did they _want_ me to like you, to be _attracted_ to you? I mean… they gave me fake memories and dropped me in your bed _naked_ for Christ sake. Are my _feelings_ my own? Did they shove those into my head too? I don’t know… but I hope you’ll give me a chance to figure out my _own_ feelings before you shut me out completely.”

Kira takes a deep breath as she considers Chris’ words. “I appreciate… how hard it can be to share what’s on your mind. And you’re right: I saw that as… some kind of stunt to lay on charm. I don’t know you. I have no idea what kind of man you are. I was starting to question if you really had a nightmare or...”

Chris hangs on Kira’s pause, again ignoring movement beyond the doorway.

Kira tilts her head back and sighs. “Look. I can’t even _begin_ to imagine what you’re going through. I’ll _try_ to keep that in mind. But I have a lot going on right now, and what just happened…” she wiggles a pointed finger at the couch, “…is the _last_ thing I need.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris says after catching heartache in Kira’s tone. “I know you miss him.”

“You can’t possibly…” Kira stops herself and rolls her eyes. “Of _course_ you do.”

Chris nods. “The two of you saying goodbye is one of the last memories the Prophets gave me. They made it seem like he wasn’t coming back, but…” Chris shrugs, “I don’t know. I’m sure it’s what you hope for anyway. But that’s… taking its toll. I think they’d agree.”

Chris gestures to the bypassed door.

Kira’s eyes widen as she twists to find four faces staring back at her. Ezri, Julian, Nog, and Quark are squeezed together, quietly peering through the doorway. Now that attention has been drawn to their presence, they all talk at once.

“If this is a bad time…” Julian says sheepishly.

“I didn’t hear anything. Honest!” Nog blatantly lies.

“It was already open,” Ezri shrugs with an apologetic pout.

Quark is surprisingly speechless. He blinks in disbelief.

“How long have you been there?!” Kira demands.

“You were in _bed_ together?” Quark breaks his stunned silence, leaving no doubt they’d been there long enough.

Kira clenches her jaw and glares at Quark, but confusion quickly consumes her expression. She pivots back to Chris. “You knew they were there?!”

Chris raises his hands defensively. “I did, but I-I’d bothered you and... I _had_ to explain.”

Kira’s brow furrows deeply as she looks between Chris and the others.

Chris looks down with guilt after upsetting Kira further.

Ezri steps in and walks straight to Chris. “He was just trying to do the right thing, Kira.”

The others make their way inside as well, stepping clear of the angry colonel as she scoffs.

Still staring at the floor, Chris is startled when Ezri taps his shoulder.

“Hey, sorry,” Ezri apologizes for the surprise and offers a nod of reassurance. “She’ll get over it. Nice to meet you.”

Chris nods at the greeting from another ‘character’ from his memories. “Thanks; I hope so. Likewise.”

Ezri turns her head to Kira. Chris doesn’t know what face Ezri makes, or what words she mouths, but it elicits a response.

Kira points back emphatically. “Don’t you start.”

Chris is at a loss. “I miss something?”

“No; I was…” Ezri shakes a fading smirk at Chris. “I was just hoping to lighten her up.”

“Hello?” Quark raises his voice in frustration. “Is anyone going to answer my question? Was this hew-mon really…?”

Kira lunges and grabs Quark’s jacket by the lapels. “Shut it, Quark.”

“OK, OK,” Quark submits as Kira’s eyes leave little question that he needs to drop the subject. He squirms to break free of her angry grip. Kira releases him with a slight push for good measure.

“I guess I’ll just have to get the details _later_ ,” Quark says as he straightens his jacket and turns to Chris. “ _You’ll_ give me details, won’t you? I’ll pay good latinum for details.” After Chris responds with a subtle head shake, Quark counters with a nod and a point. “We’ll talk later.”

“Nothing happened, Quark,” Kira growls. “Give it a rest.”

Quark rolls his eyes and produces a bar rag from his back pocket. He tends to the spilled orange Juice on the coffee table.

As Kira retreats to a corner of the room to stew, Julian approaches Chris with a stack of PADDs. “As promised,” Julian smiles, “material on diet and exercise. We’ve included lists of our favorite healthy foods.”

“Pfft, ‘healthy’,” Ezri rolls her eyes at Julian. “Mine’s the long one. _I_ included desserts.”

“Yours is the long one, dear,” Julian says as he playfully nudges Ezri’s shoulder, “because you included choices for _all_ your hosts.”

Ezri sticks her tongue out at Julian then winks at Chris. “ _And_ desserts.”

“Thank you—both of you,” Chris says graciously.

As Ezri steps away with a polite “excuse me”, Julian leans close to Chris. “Is… everything all right?”

Chris shrugs as he watches Ezri approach Kira. “I’m not sure. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

As the two men watch the women whisper and gesture, Kira shoots Chris an unpleasant eye over Ezri’s shoulder.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Julian whispers. “And just so you know, the infirmary is staffed at all hours.”

Waiting for an opportunity to introduce himself to Chris, Nog loiters too close to Kira. She breaks from her conversation with Ezri to collar the young Ferengi.

“Nog,” Kira addresses the young lieutenant with lingering irritation, “what’s the status of the Defiant?”

“Uh… installation of the cloaking device is taking longer than expected,” Nog says with a slight cower. “I requested another team to take advantage of the delay and perform overdue maintenance. But… she could be prepped within minutes if you need her, sir.”

“I want her fully operational as soon as possible. Just because the war’s over doesn’t mean this sector is secure. Did I hear correctly that an early test disabled the deflector grid? We can’t have that happen in the Gamma Quadrant.”

“The Gamma Quadrant, sir?”

“A treaty brings peace, Lieutenant; ships keep it.”

“Yes, sir.” Nog stands at attention briefly then turns to leave.

Kira sighs and grabs Nog’s shoulder. “Nog, I didn’t mean this very second. I’m sure the team can do without you for the evening. And… good work requesting the extra crew; she could use the attention.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nog smiles at the break in Kira’s mood and joins the others.

Quark steps into the hallway and retrieves a cart holding two large bottles, several glasses, and trays of hors d’oeuvres.

“As usual, _I_ was the last to be told,” Quark complains, “but I came prepared. Happy to make your acquaintance… what was your name again?”

“His name’s Chris,” Julian answers.

“Tell me, Chris,” Quark nods as his hands hover over the bottles. “How much latinum did the Prophets set you up with?”

Ezri shoots the Ferengi a shaming glare. “Quark!”

“What?” Quark shrugs as he gestures to the bottles in turn. “I want to know if we’re celebrating, or if we’re _celebrating_.”

Julian grabs the bottle that Quark implies is the more expensive of the two. “We’re _celebrating_ , and I’m buying.”

“In that case,” Quark smiles and grabs the other bottle as well, “there’s more where these came from.”

While Quark fills glasses on the table, Julian pours a glass and hands it to Chris. He pours a second glass and holds it out to Kira.

Kira hovers at the perimeter of the group and eyes the glass with reservation. It’s obvious she still has a great deal on her mind, but Julian sustains his gesture until she shakes her thoughts and closes the gap to accept it.

“Thank you, Julian,” Kira forces a smile. “I could use a drink.”

Chris sighs in relief. He hopes Kira’s response means she’s put the incident on the couch behind her—at least for now.

* * *

After more introductory small talk, the small group in Chris’ quarters settles down. Nog and Quark transfer the contents of the catering cart to the coffee table.

With Chris in the middle of the couch, Ezri takes a seat to his left and Julian the armchair just beyond. Nog and Quark pull dining chairs to the far side of the coffee table and begin passing plates and trays around.

Kira is the last to sit. Chris is disappointed, but not surprised, when she passes on the vacant spot beside him and pulls another dining chair to the right of the coffee table.

Nog clears his throat to pull Chris’ attention from Kira. “Jake says he’s sorry for not being here. He went back to Bajor to learn more about his father. He said you’d understand.”

“I do,” Chris nods. “Did you say ‘back’ to Bajor?”

“Jake’s helping Kasidy build a house that Benjamin planned,” Ezri answers.

“Ah,” Chris responds as he shifts in his seat and glances at the others.

“Are you… uncomfortable?”

“It’s just, uh…” Chris makes a small gesture to the group. “This is a bit more attention than I’m used to.”

“If this is a bad idea…”

“No,” Chris shakes his head. “This is good. Thank you. I’m just… this is good.”

“If you’re sure.” Ezri eyes Chris with uncertainty.

“I’m sure. Thanks.”

Julian hurriedly swallows an hors d’oeuvre to jump into the conversation. “So… I think some of us here know a _little_ about you but, this morning aside…” his eyes dart to Kira to gauge her reaction, “…why don’t you get us all up to speed?”

“Well…hmm.” Chris looks around uneasily. “There’s really not much to say about me. I’m just an average Joe from Earth who’s now… here.”

“I thought you said your name was Chris?” Quark asks after swallowing a sip of wine.

“It’s an expression,” Julian answers

Chris nods. “I’m guessing most of the expressions I know are dated now. If you don’t already know, this is 350 years in the future—from _my_ perspective.”

Chris looks around to see no surprised faces. “OK, so I guess you all know that part. And… I know all of _you_ because the Prophets gave me seven years’ worth of memories about this place.”

Chris blinks and leans back as several voices overlap.

Ezri makes a sweeping gesture. “Guys, guys. Hold on.” She shifts in her seat to face Chris more directly. “Before we get to that, tell us more about _you_. For starters… how were you… taken?”

Chris blows out a breath. “I, uh… I was just driving. I was on my way to meet a friend for lunch. Suddenly there was nothing but white—everywhere.”

“The Celestial Temple,” Kira speaks up.

Chris nods.

“Do you know _why_ the Prophets took you?” Ezri asks.

“Jake shed some light on that when I spoke with him earlier.”

Kira’s interest is roused. “Oh?”

Chris eagerly turns to face Kira. “Turns out… me being taken, and me being _here_ aren’t as connected as we thought.”

“The Prophets said they couldn’t send you back. He explain why?”

Chris remembers the pain he felt in the sea of white—and Jake’s mention of his ‘death’. He decides to keep those details to himself and shrugs in a play of ignorance. “Seems they’ve taken _many_ people while steering Sisko’s fate. Most were put back but… I guess something went wrong in my case. I got stuck there.”

“ _Something_?” Kira prods.

Chris can tell from Kira’s expression that she knows he’s holding back. He looks away.

“You’re not stuck _now_ —apparently,” Quark comments.

“Sisko found me. He’s the reason I’m… anywhere.”

“If he was able to get you ‘unstuck’, why not send you home?” Julian asks.

Chris’ focus drifts to somewhere beyond the coffee table. “Because the butterfly effect.”

“The what?” Quark asks.

“Another expression,” Chris says. “It’s meant to describe cause and effect taken to an extreme. A butterfly, a small insect, flapping its wings could theoretically trigger a hurricane—a large storm.”

“I assume you’re the butterfly in this story?” Quark rolls his eyes while shoving an hors d’oeuvre in his mouth.

Chris nods. “When Sisko found me, _his_ past had already… happened. So, if they put me back home, my existence would inevitably affect 350 years’ worth of… whatever they did.”

“But they’ve done it before,” Kira says. “Akorem Laan finished a poem after being sent back.”

Chris shrugs. “Jake said his dad was frustrated about some consequences of that. All I know is: putting me back would’ve affected a lot of lives to ‘correct’ for my existence. He decided that affecting just one life was better, so… here I am.”

“None of this explains why they stripped you down and put you in Kira’s… Ow!” Quark grabs his lobe after a firm pinch from Kira.

Chris blushes at Quark’s point. “Yeah… Jake said Sisko was sorry about that. He didn’t exactly offer an explanation. But, to be honest, I’m glad it happened the way it did.”

Kira’s shocked expression begs for clarification.

“I don’t mean…” Chris backpedals and struggles for words. “I don’t think I would’ve liked being treated… like I’m special. I mean… they’re your _gods_ and I’m… nobody—a loose end.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Ezri comments.

From Kira’s stare, Chris can’t tell if she agrees with Ezri’s assessment or not.

“How about we talk about something else,” Ezri says. “Let’s get back to the memories they gave you.”

Quark rolls his eyes. “And _feelings_ , if you expect us to believe _that_ part.”

Kira breaks her stare at Chris to narrow her eyes at Quark.

“Well,” Chris says before taking a gulp from his glass to calm his nerves. “The memories they gave me start when Sisko came to the station...”

* * *

The group in Chris’ quarters is both amazed and entertained during a long discussion in which they test the boundaries and nature of his knowledge. The bottles Quark brought are mostly consumed, and a third is delivered by a server from the bar.

Noticing an alcohol-induced trend, Chris does his best to stem the tide of risqué inquiries. “Hey, I don’t know who’s been with who. I doubt I know _any_ relationship stuff that isn’t common knowledge. And I want to be very clear on this point: at _no_ time have I seen _any_ of you naked.”

Chris clears his throat and aims a grinning face at Kira. It may be the alcohol that prompted him to raise the issue, but he’s tired of dodging the elephant in the room. The others fall silent as they anxiously await Kira’s reaction. She’d only lightly participated in the group’s discussion, and her refusal to entertain the topic earlier was quite clear.

Silence, and five pairs of expectant eyes, quickly gains Kira’s attention. She’d heard Chris’ words, but they take a moment to sink in. “Now wait a minute!” she returns several stares in turn with surprise and a short, uncomfortable laugh. “We’ve been over this!”

Chris smiles and shakes his head sluggishly. “No, I believe you were quite vague about what you did or didn’t see.”

Thanks to alcohol, the group’s discussion takes on the tone of friendly banter.

Ezri chimes in. “That’s right, Kira. I think you told me you… ‘saw enough’. That’s not very specific.”

“You’re taking _his_ side?” Kira scoffs. “And I’m pretty sure what I told you is: ‘I didn’t see _much_ ’.”

“Ooh… That’s harsh,” Julian cringes.

Chris laughs until he catches the joking insult. “Hey!”

Kira shakes her head at Chris to reassure him that she had, in truth, made no such comment. Having opened the door to the topic however, the group is treated to a dueling, light-hearted recount of the morning’s events.

“I woke up and he was just… there.”

“I _was_ lying there,” Chris says before striking a menacing pose, “but _you_ loomed over the bed and started _yelling_ at me! I about _shit_ myself.”

“He thought it was some kind of joke!”

“I do _not_ recall laughing. And I thought it wasn’t real; there’s a difference.”

“You had no clothes!”

“You shot at me!”

“You deserved it!”

The group’s laughter aids in shedding the last of Kira’s foul mood. She shakes her head at Chris with a grin.

Laughter slowly fades and a reflective silence fills the room.

“Well, Chris,” Julian breaks the silence, “the hour is late, and I believe my wife is drunk.”

Ezri blows Julian a raspberry. “I can drink you under the table, mister. Or was that Jadzia?”

Julian nods. “But… before we go and leave it unstated, I’d like to formally welcome you to the 24th century—and to Deep Space Nine.”

Everyone follows Julian’s example and raises what’s left in their glass for a toast. Various welcomes are offered.

“Thank you,” Chris says and nods multiple times. “Though I haven’t truly met any of you before today, I feel I know you all. I’m glad the Prophets gave me that. I know you don’t really know me yet, but I feel I already have friends here. Thanks for being here.”

Chris is surprised to see Kira stand and shift to the seat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Kira says as she puts a hand on Chris’ knee. “The Prophets told me to help you, and so far, I’ve done a lousy job of it.”

“You command the station,” Chris shrugs. “It’s not like you can just drop that—not for me.”

“The _Prophets_ asked me, so I need to make a better effort. Shall we try again tomorrow?”

Chris puts his hand on hers and smiles. “I’d like that.”

Quark stands to gather his things. “I’m heading back to my bar before we’re subjected to a repeat of the _last_ fiasco between you two.”

Chris blushes and pulls his hand away as he mouths an apology to Kira. She nods a quick acknowledgement before standing and stepping away.

“Whenever you come into some latinum,” Quark adds, “you know who to ask for quality refreshment. Replicators only put out synthehol, you know.”

Nog gets up to leave but pauses to hand something to Chris. Chris stands to accept the data rod in Nog’s hand.

“It’s a collection of Vic’s songs—in case it gets too quiet for you. I’ll introduce you sometime.” Nog proudly refers to the strong friendship he’s formed with the station’s most popular hologram.

“Thanks,” Chris nods.

Julian and Ezri stand as Nog follows Quark to the hallway. True to Julian’s observation, it’s apparent that Ezri’s had more than her share of alcohol. She wavers on her feet as they welcome Chris to the station once more.

Ezri leans over. “If you ever need to talk,” she sloppily whispers and winks, “I know a great counselor.”

Ezri immediately loses her balance. Julian steadies her and shakes his head as he leads her to the door. Once the couple leaves, Chris finds himself alone with Kira.

“Chris, I….”

Chris holds up a hand. “I don’t know what was in those bottles or how much I had, but this probably isn’t the best time to discuss anything… delicate. I’m sorry about earlier. All the things up here...?” he says as he taps the side of his head. “I… need some time to sort it all out.”

Kira smirks. “You’re a better liar when you’re tipsy. But… you’re right. You’ve had a rough day. We can talk about it tomorrow. Meet you for breakfast?”

“Sounds good,” Chris smiles. “And I have my own bed now—should get off to a smoother start for sure.”

Kira rolls her eyes. “I’ll meet you at 0700. Goodnight, Chris.”

Chris holds out his hand. Kira stares briefly before accepting it.

“Goodnight,” Chris says with a smile and gentle handshake. “Thanks for not shooting me.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Kira smiles. “I’ll see you in the morning. Get some sleep.”

Chris nods as Kira turns to leave.

As the door to the hallway closes, Chris stares at it and sighs. He eventually makes his way to his bedroom, going over the evening in his mind.

_I looked at her every chance I got. Prophet mingling or no, I can’t stop thinking about her._

Chris undresses and climbs into bed. Succumbing to fatigue and the growing effects of alcohol, he drifts off quickly.


	10. Images

**Chapter Ten: Images**

Chris wakes to the beep of the comm system, followed closely by Kira’s voice. “Kira to Chris. Good morning, Chris.”

Kira’s soft tone and pleasant greeting are worlds apart from the heated confrontation of yesterday morning. Chris rubs his eyes and looks around the room, once again coming to terms with his 24th century surroundings. With no oceans of white or car crashes plaguing his dreams, Chris slept like the dead.

Chris’ eventual response is sluggish. “Good morning.”

“I hadn’t thought to show you how to set a wake program,” Kira says after Chris acknowledges he’s awake. “I wanted to check in and see if you still want to meet for breakfast. If you’d prefer more rest after the day you had, I’d completely understand.”

“Erm… no. Breakfast. Good.” Chris fights to shake sleep away and catches a blurry glimpse of the time: 0639.

“OK; just wanted to make sure.” Kira’s smile at Chris’ grogginess is audible. “Why don’t you come down to my quarters when you’re ready. I can go over some reports in the meantime; there’s no rush. Just tap the bell when you get here—that’s the large button on the panel.”

“OK,” Chris says as a stretched-out yawn. “Thanks.”

* * *

 

During last evening’s impromptu gathering, Chris intercepted Julian during a round of restroom breaks to seek guidance on aspects of station life that others of this time take for granted: using the sonic shower, replicating clothes, and so on. Chris hadn’t thought about needing a “wake program” as Kira put it.

Chris makes a mental note, his list of which is growing at an incredible pace.

_I can_ read _a PADD, but now I need to ask someone how to_ write _on one._

Stepping out of his pajama pants, Chris cautiously enters the sonic shower. Despite the harmless description Julian provided, Chris is hesitant to close the door and activate the contraption. After a few moments of courage-building, he holds his breath, closes his eyes, and presses the cycle button. With a soft hissing sound, several emitters spray a fine, warm mist over him before the ‘sonic’ part of the shower begins.

_Whoa._

Chris reacts with a strong shiver.

_It tingles. It tingles_ everywhere!

With guilty fascination, Chris lets the mist/sonic cycle repeat several times before he presses the cycle button again. After he does, the mist/sonic cycle gives way to the mist/air cycle. When the machine signals that the ‘rinse’ cycle is complete, Chris feels only a barely perceptible film of water on his skin and only a slight dampness to his hair.

_That… was… nuts!_

With wide eyes, Chris blows out a long, slow breath.

_I’ve never been one for long showers, but… damn._

Slowly emerging from the sonic shower, Chris reaches for a towel. He dries off the small amount of moisture the machine left behind and goes about getting dressed. Before putting on his shirt, he can’t resist stepping out to the full-length mirror in the bedroom. A wide grin crosses his face.

_Damn. I look good._

Chris barely recognizes himself. Julian may have described his physical condition as “typical” for a 24th century 36-year-old but, to Chris, his reflection may as well be Mr. Universe.

Chris can’t help it; he flexes. But he doesn’t just flex, he strikes cheesy body-builder poses.

_Grrrr_

Chris makes no effort to fight his wide smile. That is, until he hears a stifled chuckle to his left. His face pales and his gut twists.

“You bypassed the door again, didn’t you?” Completely embarrassed, Chris can’t turn to face the woman he knows is standing in his bedroom doorway.

“You weren’t answering,” Kira snickers. “You must’ve been in the shower when I rang. You enjoying yourself?”

Chris sighs and turns to face Kira’s smug grin. “Did I mention I look _totally_ different than I did back home?”

Unable to wipe the grin from her face, Kira covers it by scratching a fabricated itch. “Mm-hmm.”

“I talked to the doctor about it yesterday because, to be honest, I used to be in pretty sad shape. I think the Prophets changed me because of the heart attack.”

“Heart attack?” Kira’s smirk vanishes in a flash.

“Jake mentioned it yesterday.”

“I _knew_ you were holding back. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to darken the mood. ‘Hey guys, nice to meet you, Jake says I died’.”

“Died?!”

Chris looks away from Kira’s demanding stare. “That was the ‘something’ that went wrong. That’s why I got stuck in the wormhole. You’re stuck with me because I had a weak heart.”

Kira’s prior amusement is replaced with frustration and sympathy. “Chris, you really should’ve said something.”

Chris shakes his head. “It’s OK. I’m fine; really. The Prophets did their thing and… here I am—better than ever. I just didn’t want to talk about the changes with the others. I’m glad it didn’t come up.”

“You’re telling me you’ve _died_ , and the ‘changes’ are what you didn’t want to talk about?” Kira shakes her head trying to understand Chris’ reasoning. “If anything, I figure the part you’d avoid was how they put you here.”

Chris scoffs. “You seriously think I had any chance of dodging that one?” Chris looks in the mirror and puts a hand on his stomach. “I didn’t want to talk about how I used to be. This is the ‘me’ they know. This is the me I want to keep.”

Kira nods, realizing the extent of Chris’ discomfort with his former self. “I don’t know how you were before, Chris, but I agree—this is you now. You look good.”

Chris can’t gauge Kira’s sincerity, but it doesn’t matter. It swells his chest to hear her say it.

“Look, I’m sorry for busting in,” Kira bows slightly in apology. “I wanted to make up for dropping the ball yesterday… but an important meeting just fell in my lap. I’d turn down _anything_ else to keep my word, but it’s hard to say ‘no’ to a Starfleet Admiral.”

Chris blinks and nods in agreement. “I can imagine.”

“I should be free in time for lunch, so how about we meet Ezri and Julian at Quark’s around 1130. I can give you a proper tour of the station instead of leaving you to wander like yesterday.”

Chris smirks. “I think I can stay out of trouble till then.”

Kira smiles and shakes her head. “Please tell me you don’t plan to spend the whole time staring at that.” She dips her chin to the mirror.

“No, I…” Chris blushes, but his smile quickly recovers in light of Kira’s teasing tone. “I think I can pry myself away before long.”

“Good. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Watching Kira turn to leave, Chris waits to hear the door to his quarters close. With a grin on his face, he pivots back to the mirror and flexes.

_Grrrr_

* * *

 

Chris leaves his quarters feeling like a new man. He feels more natural in his new body, and fewer aspects of 24th century life seem so daunting. He walks down the hall, armed with his combadge, map PADD, and a replicated blueberry bagel.

Chris smiles and hums nothing in particular as he makes his way to the turbolift.

_It’s gonna be a good day. I can feel it._

Having a turbolift to himself, Chris thinks about his conversation with Kira. Despite somber undertones surrounding his previous condition and encounter with the Prophets, he lingers on her smiles, the empathy she expressed, and how she even voiced a compliment!

_My memories may not be my own, but I’m in love!_

By the time the turbolift reaches the Promenade, Chris is beaming. He steps onto the deck ready to conquer the galaxy.

_I have a second chance at everything! Maybe even a shot at winning the heart of a beautiful woman named Kira Nerys!_

* * *

 

Kira slams a PADD onto her desk. “Are you not _hearing_ me?!”

“What I’m hearing,” Admiral Ross responds calmly, “are a lot of requests for resources, personnel, and ships.”

“All of which I’ve requested to maintain the integrity of the Treaty of Bajor—a task _you yourself_ entrusted to this station!”

“I entrusted that task to Benjamin Sisko. His high regard for you is the only reason you’re sitting behind that desk instead of answering to another Starfleet officer.”

Kira blinks and relaxes her aggressive posture. “Forgive my outburst, admiral, but…”

“It was also believed that your relationship with the Founder would be an asset,” Ross points to the picture of Kira’s dance with Odo, “but it’s starting to feel like a liability.”

“Admiral…” Kira takes a deep breath to stay focused, “…I just _know_ something’s been set in motion. I just don’t know _what_ yet.”

“Colonel, I wouldn’t approve these requests based on one of Benjamin’s hunches, so I most _certainly_ won’t approve them on one of yours—especially when I hear your behavior on the matter has become borderline obsessive.”

Kira flinches at the comment, “I have _data_ , Admiral, but it has to be analyzed discretely. Too many personnel changes after the war mean I’m not sure who to trust. There’s a pattern forming here, I just need help to see it.”

Admiral Ross sighs and looks to his aide.

The aide responds to the unspoken request. “You have a meeting with the Romulan ambassador in twenty minutes, admiral.”

“Very well, colonel. My aide will stay behind so you can explain what you have. We’ll make an assessment; I’ll see what I can do.”

After the “obsessive” accusation, Kira does her best to mute her gratitude. “Thank you, admiral.”

* * *

 

Floating through the Promenade, Chris feels nothing like the nervous tourist he was the day before. The place appears less intimidating—almost brighter. Even the sight of a new alien race doesn’t faze him.

Chris’ confident stride carries him past the Bajoran Temple. Worshipers receive warm blessings from men in robes as they file out after services. Chris remembers that Jadzia, Dax’s host before Ezri, was killed by a Pah-wraith-possessed Gul Dukat within the walls of that temple. He chews the last bite of his bagel more slowly as thoughts of death cloud his mood.

_She’s ‘died’ more than once. Might not be a bad idea to talk to her about it._

Lost in thought, Chris is surprised by a hand on his arm.

“A moment, child?”

Chris almost chokes on the last of his breakfast. “Hmm?”

Turning around, Chris is met with the intense stare of a vedek from the temple. Before he can object, the robed stranger grabs Chris’ ear and closes his eyes. Chris tries to refuse this violation of personal space, but trying to step away from someone with a firm grip on your ear is surprisingly painful. A muted “Ouch” escapes his lips before he surrenders to the Bajoran man’s grip.

After an uncomfortable few seconds, the man opens his eyes. Chris can only recall one result that ever came of this ritual during the ‘show’, so he can’t help but make a wise remark.

“Let me guess: my Pagh is strong?”

“On the contrary, child, I can’t feel your Pagh at all.” The vedek seems disconcerted, making the statement doubly unsettling for Chris.

“Uh… that’s not what I expected,” Chris says as he rubs his throbbing lobe. “Is that… normal?”

“I’ve seen it many times,” the vedek begins.

Chris breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s how we know the spirit has left the body—yet here you stand.”

Chris pales. “I, uh… I’m… told that I… _died_ among the Prophets.”

“Interesting,” the vedek says with a curious blink. “I’d like to explore your experience in more depth—if you’d be willing. But now is not the time.”

Chris blinks back to the entrance of the temple as a realization occurs to him. “You didn’t grab me by chance.”

The vedek nods a subtle bow of acknowledgment. “I’ve seen your likeness while consulting the orb.”

“So, you know how I came here?”

The vedek is genuinely at a loss. “I know _nothing_ about you.”

“I don’t understand. The orb…”

“I was merely shown an image of _you_ consulting the orb. I can explain nothing else, but I believe it is their wish for me to bring you to it.” The vedek turns and gestures to the temple doorway.

After some hesitation, Chris walks with him.

“Are you a man of faith, child?” the vedek asks.

“No, so this is all a bit uncomfortable. Please, call me Chris.”

“As you wish,” the vedek nods. “You do not believe the Prophets are gods?”

“I know the Prophets _exist_. They’re powerful and possess incredible abilities—my presence here is proof of that. But… do I believe they’re gods?” Chris shakes his head. “I don’t believe in gods—though I do believe I was married to the devil once.” Chris immediately cringes at his poor taste in humor. “I’m sorry; sometimes I joke when I’m nervous.”

The vedek grins and holds up a hand to put Chris at ease. “I am not offended. We are surrounded by believers of many faiths, and many who have no faith at all. My own faith does not depend on the acceptance of others.” The vedek stops walking and points. “Here we are.”

Chris turns to see an ornate case he recognizes from his implanted memories. “There are different orbs, right? Does it matter which one I… consult?”

“ _I_ believe, in _this_ instance, the Prophets have a purpose that transcends the nature of the orbs. They have only shown me a vision of you _here_.” The vedek doesn’t give a direct answer to Chris’ question, but more an explanation that the question is irrelevant.

“What do I do?”

“When you are ready, open the case and look upon the orb. The Prophets will show you that which they wish to reveal.”

Chris examines the case closely. The design and materials of it are otherworldly, even considering his new frame of reference. It doesn’t escape Chris that his experiences with the Prophets thus far have been traumatic, including a vaguely-remembered death.

_I’m not sure I want to_ touch _this thing, much less open it._

As he inspects the intricacies of the case’s design, Chris is confronted with more memories that he knows are not his own. Among them, he finds it interesting that the Prophets made little effort to make him perceive them as gods. The Bajorans worship them as such, but almost every other race simply refers to them as “wormhole aliens.”

_Is that just how it is, or did they not want to influence me on decisions of faith? Should I be worried about this Pagh thing?_

After staring at the case for several moments, Chris realizes he can stand here and think himself to death, or he can open it and get on with whatever’s going to happen.

“Aw, hell. Here goes nothing.”

Chris opens the case. Intense light spills into the room.

* * *

 

White. Everywhere.

_What did I expect?_

The experience isn’t so much like Chris’ time in the emptiness of the Celestial Temple as the foggy beginning of his bad dream. Sounds are the first clues to his location: utensils scraping against dishes, glasses clinking together, mugs thumping down on tables, and the overlapping chatter of a dozen dinner conversations. A sudden cheer of “Dabo!” leaves little doubt that Chris is in Quark’s bar, but he can’t see anything but hazy white.

The fog eventually darkens and images merge with sounds. Chris is definitely in Quark’s bar, but it appears to be some remote corner of it—perhaps an upper level. As the dream-like images shift, two men at an isolated table come into focus: a Bajoran security officer Chris has never seen before, and the Andorian with the bandaged antenna.

The pair doesn’t react to Chris’ presence. He finds this incredibly odd until he can’t detect any evidence of himself either.

_This is some kind of messed-up… out-of-body experience!_

Bringing Chris’ attention back to the men, they lean closer. The security officer speaks. “She’s getting too close.”

“I know; I thought she was on to me the other day when I got this,” the Andorian points to his bandage. “In the end it worked out perfectly. She ‘made’ me go back on the night watch to finish my work. It gave me access to her office—and the opportunity to prepare a contingency.”

The Andorian makes a gesture signifying an explosion.

“Fool. A bomb is too risky.”

“What risk? She’s been keeping her investigation so private that no one will know what leads she’s been following. The aftermath could further distract anyone who might come close.”

“Are you certain?”

The Andorian nods.

“Alright, but we need to minimize collateral damage. We don’t want an investigation to smother our plans. There’s a Starfleet admiral and Romulan ambassador on the station. The last thing we want is to make it appear to be an attempt on one of their lives—understand?”

“That won’t be a problem. I planted a small device under her desk. Fatal to anyone near it, but limited damage beyond the office. There’ll be no questioning its intended target. With their old chief engineer on Earth, I doubt anyone will detect it before it’s too late. They shouldn’t be able to find anything afterwards to implicate me and, if we’re lucky, they’ll put _me_ on the job of sorting through the mess. If that’s the case, I can destroy any remaining evidence.”

The Andorian passes a small transmitter to the officer. “You can monitor security feeds and set it off when there’ll be fewer casualties and witnesses.”

The two men nod at each other before standing to leave.

Chris’ surroundings fade and the fog of white returns.


	11. Panic

**Chapter Eleven: Panic**

As the unnatural light fades, Chris finds himself back in the Bajoran temple. The vedek calmly closes the orb case before him.

Chris’ heart pounds.

_Kira's in danger! I have to warn her! But… one of them was a security officer. He'll be watching. What do I do?!_

Chris’ stomach churns at the thought of Kira being harmed—or killed.

"What is wrong, child?” the vedek asks calmly. “My apologies; Chris. You appear distressed."

Chris doesn’t hear the vedek’s words over his screaming thoughts.

_They’re monitoring communications. Just warning her could set off the bomb. I have to find out where she is!_

"Can't talk!" Chris spits out as he turns to run. "But your gods just earned a lot of points in my book!"

Chris sprints to the temple exit but halts himself by veering into the doorframe.

_Stop, you fool! They’re monitoring security feeds. Calm down. Act natural._

Chris knows he can’t go to security for help as one of the men in his vision was an officer. Beyond the officer and the Andorian, Chris has no way of knowing who else may be involved.

_Who can I trust? Who can help?_

“Quark, I gotta find Quark,” Chris mutters to himself. He pushes off from the doorframe and walks briskly to the bar.

* * *

 

Rounding the corner into Quark’s bar, Chris tries to look as calm as anyone can while wearing a wide-eyed expression of panic. He spots Quark talking to Morn.

_Holy shit! Morn really talks!_

Chris growls at himself.

_C’mon, Chris; focus!_

Chris anxiously scans the rest of the bar. He’s positive the vision was real, but he has no idea if it was the past, present, or future. He takes an isolated seat near the far end of the counter and waves Quark over as urgently as he dares.

Quark holds up a hand for Chris to wait as Morn finishes a humorous anecdote.

Chris waves again, mouthing an unkind request.

“You _kill_ me, Morn!” Quark laughs as he causally walks to the end of the bar. “What can I do for you, Chris? Come across some latinum that’s burning a hole in your pocket?”

Chris leans over and whispers intensely. “Kira’s in danger. There’s a bomb.”

Still tickled by Morn’s story, Quark is slow to pick up on Chris’ sincerity. He chuckles until he registers the panic in Chris’ eyes. “Wait. You’re serious? How do you know?”

“It doesn’t matter, but I know you can access security systems. Can you find out where she is right now?”

“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Quark says as he begins to reach for the comm panel behind the bar.

Chris reaches across the bar and grabs Quark’s arm. “Don’t,” he whispers loudly. “Someone from security’s in on it. They’ll be listening. We can’t tip them off before we know where she is. The bomb’s under her desk.”

Quark's eyes widen as the gravity of the situation sinks in. He nods in understanding. Not wanting any security personnel to see what he’s about to do, Quark scans the faces in the bar. "I see. This should only take a moment."

Quark retrieves a box from under the counter and opens it. Chris recognizes the security rods within and, though he has no idea how they work, knows they allow Quark to access and bypass certain systems on the station. Quark slides a data rod into a panel and rapidly presses buttons. A map appears with a pulsing dot.

“This isn’t good.” Quark shakes his head while staring at the screen. “She’s in her office right now.”

Chris reaches for his combadge. Quark tries to stop him, but Chris evades the maneuver and taps.

“Chris to Kira,” Chris’ voice shakes.

There’s no immediate response.

“What are you doing?!” Quark whispers loudly.

“Shhh,” Chris hushes Quark and listens, practically holding his breath.

Kira finally responds. She sounds overly annoyed. “Chris, I’m still in that meeting I told you about. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“Wait! This’ll only take a second,” Chris says quickly, hoping to keep Kira from closing the channel.

Quark puts his hands on the sides of his face, panicking as the situation unfolds. Moments tick by as the two wait for Kira’s response.

Someone signals Quark for a refill, to which he responds harshly. “Whatever it is, we’re out!”

“Alright, Chris,” Kira finally responds. “What’s so important? Are you OK?”

“I did some research and, uh… I found out what happened to my last known relative.”

“Seriously, Chris?” Kira is perturbed. “Can’t this wait?”

“Her name was Nana Visitor.”

Quark looks at Chris like he’s completely lost his mind and starts to object. Chris holds up a hand and shakes his head emphatically for Quark to wait. There’s another long pause.

“I see.” Kira’s intrigued tone signals recognition of the name Chris used to address her when he arrived. “What happened to her?”

“She was murdered. It was, uh… it was…”

Quark can no longer stand the improvised warning. He lunges forward and yells at Chris’ combadge. “There’s a bomb in your office! Get out!”

Chris freezes in terror.

Not three seconds pass before the pair hears an explosion over the comm. Their faces distort as they imagine the worst.

Chris grabs Quark by the shoulders and shakes him violently. “What were you thinking?! They set it off because of you!”

“You were taking too long! Anyone listening _had_ to know what you were doing. Were you _trying_ to get her killed?!”

“Would you two shut up?!” Kira’s voice explodes over the comm. “Everyone got out in one piece. I don’t know how you knew… but thank you.”

Ecstatic, Quark and Chris throw up their hands. “We did it!”

* * *

 

Shrugging off curious stares after his unusual display with Quark, Chris rushes to Ops. He does his best to avoid collisions while using his map PADD to navigate, but more than one pedestrian voices outrage as he barrels through the halls. He practically jumps ahead of two Starfleet personnel to claim a turbolift.

“Come on, come on,” Chris mutters impatiently as the Starfleet officers object.

Chris anxiously taps his PADD against the railing as the turbolift slowly leaves the station.

_Can’t this thing go any faster?!_

When Chris arrives in Ops, medical staff are already treating minor injuries and Julian is tending to a mildly-shaken Ezri.

Despite having heard her voice after the blast, Chris’ heart leaps as he spots Kira alive and well. Facing away from him, she tosses her singed jacket to the side and steps into her office to survey the damage. Chris finds that he’s stuck to the turbolift platform— frozen by a bombardment of thoughts and emotions. Almost losing someone has a way of letting you know exactly how you feel about them.

Catching a curious glance from Ezri, Chris quickly becomes self-conscious. He looks down and clears his throat to mask his expression. When he looks back up, Ezri wears a wry grin. She tilts her head in Kira’s direction, signaling that Chris needs to get his butt over there already. Chris nods, practically bounds across Ops, and steps into Kira’s office.

After kicking at some debris that used to be her desk, Kira kneels to pick up a shredded piece of leather and tangle of string. “Sorry, Benjamin,” she mutters at the remains of Sisko’s baseball.

Chris announces his presence: “I think he’ll get over it.”

In response to Chris’ voice, Kira stands and spins while dropping the mangled ball. She wraps him in a tight bear hug. “Chris! How the hell did you know?”

Chris can’t find his words. He basks in the joy of Kira’s embrace.

With Chris’ silence, Kira releases her hold. She steps back and grips his shoulders. She searches his eyes intently. “How did you know?”

Between the surprise embrace and the fate Kira barely escaped, Chris is overwhelmed. He struggles to suppress his emotions. “The, uh… the Prophets showed me.”

“What? How?”

“A vedek—he showed me the orb. It gave me a vision. I was in Quark’s and saw the Andorian with the hurt… thing,” Chris points to his head. “He was talking to a security officer and they planned this together. They said you were getting too close to something?”

“The Andorian? And a security officer?” Kira is stunned. Her eyes scan the debris then lock onto Chris’. “Thank you. I owe you… everything.”

Kira continues to stare into Chris’ eyes. Chris stares back into Kira’s. With her hands still gripping his shoulders, he gingerly places his on her waist. He imagines pulling her close for a kiss.

“Too close…” Kira whispers.

Chris blinks as Kira’s words interrupt his fleeting fantasy.

“Too close to what?” Kira expands on her pondering. She blinks a half-glance downward as she realizes where Chris has placed his hands. She cocks her head and narrows her eyes. “What are you…?”

Chris swallows hard, fearing his longing impulse was too apparent.

Kira answers her own question with a furrowed brow. She turns from Chris and grumbles. “I don’t need this.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Chris whispers. “I just…”

“Don’t,” Kira says as she drops to the floor and starts sifting through debris. “I heard enough excuses yesterday.”

“They weren’t excuses. I honestly didn’t know what I was feeling.”

“And now you do?” Kira asks angrily. “ _What_ exactly? One day on the station and you think…?” Kira scoffs. “I don’t have time for this.”

Chris falls silent. His heart and stomach knot together as the full realization of his love for this woman collides with her newfound hatred of him. He doesn’t know what to say, and there’s nothing left in the room to crawl beneath.  If it didn’t mean facing Ezri and all of Ops in his current state, he’d turn and run away. All he can do is stand there and flinch with every chunk of debris that Kira flings across the room.

“The Prophets asked me to help, so I’ll help,” Kira spits out between throws, “but I have no intention of entertaining this… this…”

Trapped in an emotional corner, Chris finally finds his voice. “I can help,” he says quietly, “if you tell me what you’re looking for.”

Kira doesn’t acknowledge Chris’ offer as she continues to search. “Got it,” she says after chucking a few more pieces of rubble aside. She lifts a PADD from the ruins and dusts it off. “It’s still working.”

Chris is speechless as Kira scrolls through data on the PADD. Her refusal to acknowledge his presence is torturous.

Kira’s tapping on the pad is almost violent with frustration. “I don’t get it! What am I close to?” Her head droops in defeat and she lets out a heavy sigh. “Chris?”

Chris barely manages a whisper. “Yes?”

Kira doesn’t look up. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I don’t want to, and I don’t care. But… I need you to tell me _everything_ about your vision.”

Chris feels the stab of Kira’s tone. “I’m sorry. I…”

Kira’s head lowers even further as she lifts a hand for Chris to stop. “Just… stick to the vision.”

Chris takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes to shut out Kira’s angry posture. “One of the men said you’ve been keeping… whatever this is to yourself. They seemed happy about that. I think you should ask for help.”

Kira doesn’t look up from the rubble. “I’m asking you.”

Chris blinks his eyes open. “But…”

“Admiral Ross’ aide is shaken up. Ross himself is locked down on the Venture by now because of the blast. The list of people I trust right now is pretty short.”

Chris struggles to swallow. “I know… I know you don’t care too much for me, but… I hope you know you can trust me.”

Kira makes a sweeping nod before looking up at Chris. “I…” she pauses at his regretful expression. “I don’t have time to address… how you feel.”

Chris nods.

“But you’re right,” Kira says. “I believe I can trust you. Otherwise…”

Chris’ voice cracks. “You’d be dead.”

The two share an uneasy stare.

Kira blinks slowly and raises the PADD. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Chris sighs before shifting his eyes from Kira’s. “What am I looking at?”

“This is every piece of cargo that’s moved through the station in the last few days. I suspect someone’s smuggling _something_ through here to attack the Founders.”

“And Odo.”

Kira nods without hesitation. “And Odo.”

Chris looks away from Kira’s intense stare. The turn of the conversation plunges him further into darkness. “They didn’t say anything about cargo—or the Founders.”

“Are you sure? This is important.”

“I know what he means to you,” Chris nods to piece of charred and twisted metal on the floor. “The Prophets only showed them talking about the bomb.”

“Right. The Andorian and…”

Chris looks up as Kira’s words stop abruptly. Her eyes are wide and shift haphazardly as she tries to capture her thoughts.

“…someone in security,” Kira finally finishes her sentence. “They can alter records.”

Chris may as well be in another quadrant. Kira avoids eye contact and speaks her thoughts aloud.

“I’m not looking for data; I’m looking for data _manipulation_.”

Chris’ shoulders drop as he feels even further removed. He really didn’t need a second lesson in how much it hurts to be ignored.

“This explosion…” Kira says as she rises to her feet. “I don’t have much time.”

Kira sidesteps Chris to leave her office. She grabs her jacket and heads to the turbolift. “Dax! I need to borrow you in the security office. Bring a weapon.”

Stealing a confused glance at Chris, Ezri rushes to a weapons locker and grabs a phaser. She quickly falls in step with Kira to board the turbolift. Kira’s attention remains focused on the PADD as the lift descends.

Chris stands speechless, following them with his eyes. Ezri returns an apologetic pout as she and Kira disappear below the platform.

* * *

 

On the turbolift, Ezri watches her friend stare intently at a PADD.

"What happened up there?" Ezri asks. “He saved your life and you just… left him there. He looked…”

"I know,” Kira’s says without turning from her PADD. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

"He cares about you, Kira.”

Kira huffs.

“Odo’s gone. You said yourself that he could be with the Founders for _lifetimes_ trying to reshape the Dominion."

Kira shakes the PADD and glares. "And I want him to _have_ that chance!"

Ezri recoils from the outburst. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Someone’s trying to kill Odo—and _every_ other Founder along with him. After what they did during the war, I don't give a _damn_ about the rest. But Odo… he's all that matters."

“And Chris? The Prophets asked you to…”

“Don’t,” Kira points the PADD at Ezri then off in a random direction. “I’m getting enough guilt from him as it is.”

Ezri starts to open her mouth again but thinks better of it.

"I need your help, Dax," Kira pleads.

Ezri sighs, straightens her shoulders, and nods to her friend. “Tell me what you need.”


	12. Crushed

**Chapter Twelve: Crushed**

Chris blinks. He isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at the spot where Kira disappeared below the turbolift platform, but it was long enough for an empty one to come and take its place.

The wounded have left with Julian to finish treatment of their injuries in the infirmary. Only a handful of Starfleet and Bajoran personnel remain in Ops, and only a room full of debris remains where Kira’s office used to be.

Chris looks around his feet. Bits of wood and leather mingle with futuristic shrapnel.

_Alone with a pile of rubble. Almost feels like home._

Chris scoffs at himself.

Looking more closely, Chris spots the corner of a picture. Moving the broken panel above it, he finds himself looking upon an image of Kira and Odo. The smiles on their faces push him further into a lonely corner of his mind.

_Dammit. Why do I do this to myself?_

Chris thinks back to his mood in the morning—before being stopped by the Bajoran priest. His heart had been filled with foolish hopes that his new life might include Kira Nerys as more than just some tour guide appointed by the Prophets.

“Who the hell was I kidding?”

Chris warps his upper lip in a sneer of self-loathing as he angrily shoves debris around with his foot. He is disgusted by his own naivety.

“Sir?” a voice behind Chris interrupts his thoughts. “I need you to step out; we need to begin our investigation.”

Without turning to face the man who spoke, Chris nods and points to the floor. “She’ll want that photo salvaged.”

Chris steps out of the office and two men in clean-suits make their way in with their equipment. He surveys Ops one more time, searching for a familiar face. Finding none, he makes his way to the turbolift.

* * *

 

While Chris’ trip from Quark’s to Ops had been a frantic dash to see Kira after the explosion, his return is a sulking meander. He continues to berate himself, paying no attention to the station which amazed and fascinated him only an hour before.

After seeing his new body this morning, and Kira’s smile at his silly posing, Chris had convinced himself that his centuries with the Prophets was like aging to perfection in a celestial wine cellar. Now he feels like ancient parchment that crumbles with every step.

Wandering back to Quark’s bar, Chris trudges in and takes a seat.

“Where have you been?!” Quark says as he rushes over. “Is everyone OK up there? You don’t _look_ like everyone’s OK.”

Chris chews his lip and nods. “I believe the casualties were just chairs, a desk, and a baseball.”

“Sisko’s baseball?”

“Seriously?” Chris glances up from his defeated slouch. “You’re worried about the damn ball?”

“If everyone’s OK what _should_ I be worried about?” Quark leans back from the counter to better assess Chris’ posture and expression. “Ohhh, I see now. I don’t care _what_ you said yesterday, you’re hooked.”

Chris nods slowly as he stares at the counter.

“Didn’t quite get the hero’s welcome you were hoping for, did you.”

Chris’ nod gives way to a shake.

Quark shakes his head. “Only one thing to do now…” He ducks down to retrieve a bottle and two glasses. He pours them half-full of something green then raises one for a toast. “To the one thing men can _always_ count on: heartbreak.”

“Wow, Quark. You really know how to cheer a man up.” Chris’ sarcasm is thick.

“I don’t _do_ cheer,” Quark speaks flatly. “This is about harsh reality.” The Ferengi throws his glass back and consumes the contents in one gulp. “If it’s cheer you want, you’ll have to talk to that Vic fellow everyone swoons over.”

Chris eyes the glass in front of him. “No, Quark; you’re right. This is about harsh reality.” He lifts his glass and copies Quark’s actions. His face immediately sours. “Holy… this stuff is _horrible_.”

Quark stares blankly at the Dabo table, lost in thoughts of failed business ventures past. “Harsh reality doesn’t deserve the good stuff... unless you’re buying.”

As Chris hunches over and stares at his empty glass, he considers how easily reality can fracture and distort. Jumble thoughts, memories, and emotions enough and it’s easy to believe almost anything if you want it badly enough. The distorted images of the bar beyond the multi-faceted glass are replaced with several reflections of his own brooding face as Quark refills it.

“Wanna know another harsh reality, Quark?” Chris begins as he raises the glass of foul liquid. “Whoever tried to kill her is still out there. Regardless of how she feels about me, she’s in danger. And like it or not, I still care.”

Chris empties his glass with another disgusted face.

Quark shakes his head. “I thought you knew all about these people. You know Kira can take care of herself. Now that they’ve stuck their necks out, you should feel sorry for _them_.”

“I know she can take care of herself,” Chris says as he sets his glass down, “but will that count for anything if a traitor in a security uniform gets the drop on her?”

Quark’s smug grin fades and he shakes his head slowly. “You know who they are?”

“I found out about the bomb from a vision the orb gave me,” Chris nods. “Kira knows about the Andorian, but _I’m_ the only one who can identify the officer.”

Quark leans on the bar to speak to Chris more directly. “You’re starting to sound dangerously like wanting to get involved in this mess. You’d get yourself killed—and for what? You know she’ll never care for anyone but Odo.”

“I don’t get it, Quark. Why does she act like he’ll come back any minute? In the memories the Prophets gave me, it seemed like he was going to be gone for, well… forever.”

“The odds of him coming back are pretty slim—not that there’s a wager on it.”

Chris rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter; she hates me.”

“Granted, she wasn’t the happiest with you yesterday, but… you saved her life. That’s gotta be worth som…”

Chris looks up meekly. “I tried to kiss her.”

“You what?!”

“OK, I didn’t _really_ try… but I wanted to. She could tell.”

Quark puts a hand on his forehead. “Oh boy.”

“I messed up.”

Quark nods in agreement.

“If not for the Prophets, she’d have nothing to do with me. She may not—even with that. But… I _have_ to get involved—or at least try. I care what happens to her. I just hope she’ll let me stay close enough to be able to say ‘hey, that’s the bad guy’. Happy ending, right?”

Quark shakes his head. “It’s never that simple. Situations like this… people get hurt.”

Chris thinks about his past life. Overweight techies weren’t exactly known for heroism outside of video games. He’s never been in a fight; he’s never held a gun. As Quark predicts, Chris could very well get himself killed if he puts himself anywhere near a dangerous situation. Chris has heard a saying that there’s a fine line between brave and stupid, and he’s pretty sure what he’s about to throw himself into is unquestionably stupid.

“So, Quark. Have you got a holosuite program that can show me how to use a phaser?”

Quark stops wiping the bar and does a double-take at Chris. “You’re serious.”

Chris shrugs. “You’re right; I don’t know what could happen. But I’m going to do whatever I can to help. It might not hurt to know how to use one—just in case.”

Quark drops his rag and rolls his eyes. “It’s your funeral.”

* * *

 

As Chris follows Quark to a vacant holosuite, he tries to recall all the times he’s seen them used: a baseball game, combat training, spy stories… He has no idea how holosuites work, so he’s anxious about how real or disorienting it may be. Chris hesitates in the doorway.

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” Quark says from inside. “Are you coming in or not?”

“I’ve just… never been in one of these before.”

“But your memories…”

“I know, I know. I’m just nervous.”

“If you’re nervous about the holosuite,” Quark rolls his eyes, “I can’t _wait_ to see you try to handle a phaser.”

Chris finally steps inside and the door closes behind him. Quark presses some buttons on a small device and their surroundings suddenly change.

“Whoa!” Chris exclaims. He throws his arms out for balance as the new, larger space disorients him.

Quark laughs. “Oh… the look on your _face_! Please tell me before you try a transporter—I want to sell tickets.”

“This isn’t funny,” Chris scoffs.

“It most certainly is,” Quark chuckles.

Chris’ equilibrium recovers and he surveys their location. They’re in the demonstration range that Quark used in an episode where his cousin persuaded him to work with an arms dealer. The room is full of large, fantastic weapons.

“Shit, Quark. I said a phaser, not heavy artillery.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Quark mutters and presses more buttons. “There; better?”

The display of impressive weaponry is replaced by a single table of small arms. Chris recognizes a Federation and Bajoran phaser as he approaches it. Some of the other weapons look familiar, but the majority look completely foreign.

“Where do you want to start?” Quark asks.

Chris plucks the Bajoran weapon from the table, but Quark quickly yanks it out of his hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Quark yells as he smacks Chris’ hand. “Point, not grab! Are you trying to _kill_ me?!”

“But this is a holosuite, Quark! There are safeties, right?”

Quark’s expression makes it clear that the sight of Chris grabbing a weapon made him forget the fact. He tries to play it off. “Safety… cannot be stressed enough. Treat _every_ holosuite as if the safeties are disabled,” Quark says as he recklessly shakes the phaser at Chris.

Chris rolls his eyes and snatches the weapon back from Quark. He’s completely lost as he looks over the controls.

“Now… that thing on the side is the safety—I think,” Quark begins. “The two buttons on top change the power setting, and…” He cocks his head to the side. “Or is that dispersion?”

Chris groans in frustration.

_I am so getting myself killed._

Chris points the weapon towards the open end of the demonstration range. “Just give me something to shoot.”

A moment later, Vic Fontaine appears in front of Chris.

Chris is shocked. “You use Vic as a target?!”

“That wasn’t me!” Quark exclaims, glancing between his control device and Vic.

“Hey, pally,” Vic says to Chris. “I just _had_ to step in. You’re way outta your league—with these thugs _and_ with the girl.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Vic,” Chris says with heavy sarcasm. “I thought you were supposed to be inspirational.”

“Look, pal, Nerys is one tough broad. A loose cannon like you won’t help anything ‘cept gettin’ someone killed—namely yourself.”

“I _know_ it’s risky; I don’t want to hear it. And the _last_ thing I need is a sappy song, so don’t even…”

“Sappy? You’ve got _some_ nerve, pal.” Vic appears flustered. “You may not wanna hear it, but you’re gonna listen. Nog told me what he’s heard: that you’ve got a thing for Nerys— _and_ that she’s not having it. You’re hurt; I get that. But don’t let it blind you into going off and doing something that’ll only get you or someone else killed.”

“Wait; you mentioned ‘thugs’. You’re a holosuite program. How do you know what’s going on?”

“My pal Nog tells me everything. And ever since they started leaving my program running 24/7, I read station reports to pass the time.”

Vic unfolds a newspaper he’s been holding to show the headline: “Explosion Rocks the Colonel’s Socks!”

Chris rolls his eyes.

“A bomb?” Vic says. “Sounds like we’re dealing with some dangerous fellas.”

“I don’t know what you learned from Nog, or your newspaper there, but Kira’s after these ‘fellas’ because they’re out to kill Odo. I _fully_ understand how serious this is.”

Vic puts a hand on his forehead and widens his eyes. “My good pal Odo? You know, I had to work _real_ hard to get those two to see what was right in front of their noses. Those two got somethin’ special.”

Chris slacks his shoulders and closes his eyes.

Vic picks up on the reaction. “Oh, this is deep. You know about them, and you’re _still_ in here practicing to play hero? Nerys is one broad that doesn’t need saving, and her heart’s already spoken for.”

Chris’ response is to return to the table and stare at the weapons intensely. Vic looks to Quark for some indication of Chris’ sanity. Quark shrugs.

“Pally… you’re doing the _wrong_ thing for the _wrong_ reason.”

Chris smacks the table with his fist. “Well I’m sure as hell not going to stand by and do nothing!”

Vic and Quark both jump as Chris’ outburst echoes through the chamber.

“Look,” Chris says, lowering his voice, “I’m not trying to be a hero, but I’m the only one who’s seen one of the ‘fellas’ that’s trying to hurt Nerys. I know she loves Odo; I get it. But if she gets hurt because one of these things is lying around and I don’t know how to use it… I will never, _never_ forgive myself.”

There’s an awkward silence as everyone in the room begins to fully understand each other.

Vic approaches the table, pointing. “Well in that case, pally, you need to pay close attention to this little number here.”

“There’s no safety on the Klingon ones,” Quark adds, “so be careful with those.”


	13. Investigation

**Chapter Thirteen: Investigation**

Kira and Ezri reach the security office on the Promenade. They plan to use the office as a command center for their impromptu investigation since the bold attempt on Kira’s life claimed her office. Their first order of business is already taken care of: seal the door and engage a containment field. They can’t be too careful given the unknown extent to which station security has been compromised.

“That should do it,” Kira states with confidence. Stepping away from the wall-mounted panel, she eases herself into the chair behind Odo’s old desk. She slowly scans the workspace that was practically his home.

“Kira,” Ezri says softly as she sits across from her friend. “Have you even… _been_ in here since he left?”

Kira shakes her head as she runs her hand along the desk. Her gaze is distant.

“I know you’d like some time, but you seemed quite anxious on the way.”

“Of course,” Kira swallows and nods without looking from the desk. “We should get to it.”

Ezri watches closely as Kira starts scanning data in silence. “In the turbolift…” she starts delicately.

Kira shoots Ezri a pointed glance. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“But… you said the Prophets…”

“They showed him two men talking about the bomb. That’s it.”

“Who?”

“Williams, for one.”

“The Andorian?”

Kira nods. “I’ve sent two officers to find him.”

“I wondered what all the whispering was about while I was filling Julian in. Just two officers?”

“Two that I trust. Security channels are likely compromised, so an encrypted badge-to-badge channel is safest.”

“Right, you mentioned we’re up against an officer. Do you know who?”

Kira shakes her head.

“But Chri…”

“I _don’t_ want to hear that name right now.”

Ezri groans in frustration. “What the hell did he do?”

“Nothing, he…” Kira huffs. “Can we just get on with this?”

“I’m _trying_ to help, but the man who can identify a traitor is off limits?”

“Alright. Here’s the deal.” Kira leans forward and presses a pointed finger on the desk. “These people blew up my office because I’m getting too close to something. My _first_ priority is to find out what the hell that is before it’s too late. Once we get a lead on what’s going on, we’ll have him look through personnel files. Happy?”

“Kira…” Ezri stops and sighs. “Alright, it can wait, but… I still wish you’d tell me what’s going on. This morning you were actually _laughing_ —something about a mirror. Now you want to pretend he doesn’t exist? What happened?”

“Yesterday…” Kira huffs. “Yesterday he looked at me in a way I’m not ready for—from _anyone_. You were there.”

“I remember.”

“The Prophets asked me to help him, so I’ll help him. But I don’t know how to handle that kind of attention right now. He made a good argument about not knowing his own feelings and… hell, _I’d_ be confused in that situation.”

Ezri blinks and nods.

“Between that and a night to sleep on it… I let it go.” Kira’s shoulders drop and she leans back in her chair. “And you’re right; this morning was good. We spoke like you’d expect _friends_ would. But after the explosion in my office, he…”

“He what?”

“He made it complicated.”

“But…”

“Dax, no ‘buts’ now, _please_? I really need your help with this. We need to look for anomalies in these manifests and there’s a _lot_ of them here. You can ‘psychoanalyze’ me all you want when this is over.”

Ezri reluctantly agrees to the compromise. “OK, but I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I’m sorry I’m being difficult.”

“Nope!” Ezri holds up a hand and grins. “No backing out now. You’ll learn to _hate_ the sight of my office.”

Kira rolls her eyes and scoffs. A hint of a smirk crosses her face.

Ezri smiles at herself for breaking the mood. “But like you said: time’s critical. Let’s get to it.”

* * *

“I _am_ trying!” Chris yells. “How am I supposed to hit those frickin’ balls of light if they keep moving around like that?”

“Calm down, pally,” Vic says. “Maybe we should knock it down a level, Quark.”

Quark shrugs. “We’re already on ‘cadet’.”

“Don’t they practice on anything _stationary_?!” Chris practically screams as he fires three errant shots in rapid succession.

Quark flaps his arms and shakes his head. “This is pointless.”

“I think I got an idea,” Vic says.

The holosuite program suddenly changes from the Starfleet phaser range to a 20th century rifle range. The trio and table of small arms are situated under a wooden shelter.

Chris looks around. “OK, so… what am I…?”

Vic points downrange to a row of targets nearly 100 yards out.

“You’re shitting me,” Chris groans.

Quark shrugs. “At least they’re not moving.”

* * *

“Dammit,” Kira mutters as she smacks a control panel. “I’ll _never_ know who planted the bomb. There’s a gap in the surveillance logs.”

Ezri blinks and looks up from her PADD. “You’re trying to get out of needing Chris’ help, aren’t you.”

“It’s too dangerous to get him involved.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”

Kira starts to object.

“But nevermind that,” Ezri says first. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this was going on in the first place? I could’ve helped; we _all_ could’ve helped.”

Kira shakes her head at Ezri’s scolding. “It’s not like I was in over my head from day one. I was just keeping my ears open for any threats to the Treaty of Bajor. When I heard some grumblings… I kept a closer watch. With all the personnel changes after the war… I didn’t know who I could trust. Nothing against you or the others, but I couldn’t risk involving everyone discussing it across the station. You remember Eddington, don’t you? _That_ son-of-a-bitch shot me. Here we are again.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have shut us out. Even with just quietly monitoring things on your own… they would’ve killed you if it hadn’t been for…”

“I know,” Kira cuts her off. “I don’t even want to think about it.” She rubs the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry. The explosion rattled us all.”

“You think I’m scared?” Kira cocks her head. “I’m furious! Those men better have their effects in order.”

Ezri jerks back and blinks. “That’s a bit extreme.”

“I’m not… I just…” Kira lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re right. I’ll… play by the rules, but I still don’t intend to give them another shot at me— _or_ Odo.”

“And the Founders?”

“Oh, please; you know I don’t give a damn about them. They’re just lucky he’s in the Great Link.” Kira turns her attention back to her console. “Have you found anything in this mess yet?”

“Not yet,” Ezri sighs.

“Damn.”

Both women bury their eyes in slowly-scrolling data logs. After a few minutes pass, a tapping sound startles them both. Though the doors to the Promenade are mostly transparent, their attention has been fully focused on the work in front of them. Their wide eyes spy a cringing Julian holding a tray of what appears to be lunch.

“Oh, how sweet,” Ezri says as surprise wears off.

Kira rolls her eyes and hits the release for the door. “Step in quickly, doctor.” 

As commanded, Julian takes a couple quick steps forward. Kira seals the door as soon as he clears the threshold.

“I do apologize for the fright,” Julian says. His eyes light up as he sets the tray down and surveys the office full of PADDS and data screens. “So… what nefarious plot have we unearthed? Shall I get my tux?”

Ezri nudges Julian and shakes her head as she knows Kira is _not_ in the mood for levity.

Kira lowers her chin and eyes Julian from across the desk. “You think we’re having _fun_? Do I need to remind you that I’m sitting here because _my_ desk is a pile of rubble?”

“Erm, no sir,” Julian clears his throat and looks around the office to dodge Kira’s stare. “Where’s Chris? I assumed he’d…”

Between Kira’s unblinking stare and the slow shake of Ezri’s head, Julian falls silent. He uncomfortably tugs at his collar. “I, uh, thought you two might like something to eat.”

Ezri touches Julian’s arm and smiles to offset Kira’s glare. “That was very thoughtful, Julian. Thank you.”

Julian returns Ezri’s smile, thankful for the brief respite.

“Julian,” Kira’s expression turns inquisitive, “you ran medical tests on Chris, correct?”

“A full work-up; yes. Why?”

“Did anything unusual come up?”

“That’s a vague question.”

Kira’s frustrated eyes return. “Did you find anything that could indicate Chris is not who he claims to be?”

Ezri is shocked. “What? You don’t trust him? He saved your life!”

“Did he? Or was that planned for the sake of gaining trust?” Kira blinks once slowly and turns back to Julian. “I’m still waiting, doctor.”

“Fine,” Julian says shortly. He scans the back wall of the office as if reading his notes in his mind. “He’s definitely not a changeling, not that I was explicitly testing for it. He had elevated levels of adrenaline, most likely from you yelling and discharging a phaser near his head.” He pauses to shoot an accusatory glance at Kira. “Beyond that, I don’t recall anything during my examination that would suggest our guest was anything other than a frightened and confused human being… that was altered by the Prophets and deposited here with eerie recollections of...”

Julian’s voice trails off as he sees the source of Kira’s concern.

“Are we on the same page now, doctor?” Kira narrows her eyes. “You yourself suggested he could be a spy when he knew so much about Sloan. Ezri and I plan to ask him to provide the identity of someone who’s infiltrated security. I need your assessment because my current mood and religious beliefs are clouding my judgment. I don’t want to be responsible for getting an innocent man killed because Chris turns out to be a Cardassian, Romulan, or… who knows what else.”

“I understand completely. But… all things considered, Chris _is_ who he claims.” Julian straightens his posture. “How else can I be of service, _sir_?”

Julian’s snide emphasis on ‘sir’ breaks Kira’s stern attitude. She closes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Julian. The stakes here are… immense. If these people succeed, I’m positive Odo will die. Though I don’t care much for the Founders, the Dominion would fall apart without them—possibly taking the Gamma _and_ Alpha Quadrants with it. Even if these fanatics fail, the Founders could rekindle the war to protect themselves. Either way, if we don’t stop them on this on this side of the wormhole, I’ll never see Odo again.”

Julian and Ezri share a glance. Their understanding has been that Kira will never see Odo again under _any_ circumstances.

Kira leans over and extends her arm to grip the edge of the desk nearest Julian. “Thank you for your report. My imagination was getting the better of me. I needed to hear facts. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Julian nods in acceptance of her apology.

Kira motions to the tray Julian brought and tries to smile. “And thanks for taking care of us.”

“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.” Julian bows his head slightly.

With the distraction of Julian’s entrance changing her mood, Kira takes a fresh look around the office. With a hesitant smile, she points to Ezri and voices an observation. “Do you know how many times Odo would sit where I am and I’d sit where you are for daily briefings? It was a ritual he absolutely _cherished_. I was oblivious for too long. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together when he made an excuse to stop the briefings when I started seeing Shaka…”

Kira’s expression transforms from reminiscent to revelation as she stops abruptly in the middle of Shakaar’s name. “That’s it! An excuse for a change. Those sneaky bastards.” Kira scrambles through screens on her console.

Ezri and Julian, both baffled, wait for Kira to share her enlightenment.

Kira stops scrolling. “Ezri, narrow your search to include only textiles, printed material, and inert building materials.”

“OK, but I don’t underst…”

Kira interrupts by paraphrasing a passage from her console. “To ‘ease the strain on security resources’ after the war, these types of goods were omitted from elevated security scans.” Kira looks up and shakes her head. “Odo would _never_ have eased security on _anything,_ so our traitor must have made the change. I must not have seen the harm in it whenever the order crossed my desk. Maybe what we’re looking for was reclassified to slip it through.”

Ezri is happy to enter search parameters instead of scanning entries individually. After a brief wait, her PADD provides a truncated list. Ezri inspects the new list only briefly before tapping the PADD with purpose.

“Find something?” Kira asks as she straightens up in her chair.

“I’ve found an altered record, but this doesn’t make much sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a shipment of textbooks that arrived yesterday from Bajor, but the classification isn’t the anomaly.”

“Textbooks? What was altered?”

“The size of the shipment was modified; that’s it.”

“Was it just an error correction?”

“Give me a little credit, Kira. This was done by someone trying to hide their tampering.”

“A shipment of books isn’t what I expected we’d be looking for, but if you think it’s suspicious… it’s worth a look,” Kira concludes. “Julian, stay off comms, but track down Chris and bring him here. It’s time we had him look at some faces.”


	14. A Doctor Walks into a Bar...

**Chapter Fourteen: A Doctor Walks into a Bar…**

Per Kira’s request, Julian refrains from using comm channels to locate Chris. Knowing what someone with security clearance is capable of monitoring, he doesn’t ask the computer for his location either. After checking Chris’ quarters and the replimat, Julian pokes his head into Quark’s. It doesn’t take long to spot Chris as he’s engaged in a rather boisterous, though decidedly one-sided, conversation with Quark.

“I waz geddin’ preddy good in dere, don’d you thingk?” Chris asks loudly with a heavy slur. He makes a pistol shape with his hand and points it at Quark.

Quark rolls his eyes and does his best to ignore Chris and his erratic finger gun.

As Julian approaches, he spies a large steak, massive baked potato, and huge dinner roll on a platter in front of Chris.

“There you are, Chris,” Julian says. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Chris spins on his barstool, now wielding two finger guns. “Pew, pew!” Chris giggles.

Julian halts and blinks in surprise.

“Don’t be alarmed, doctor,” Quark shakes his head. “He couldn’t hit you if those were real _and_ he were sober.”

Chris spins back around and grabs a bottle while giving Quark a nasty and unsteady look.

From the mess on the platter and the man hunched over it, Julian can see that Chris has put a sizeable dent in the oversized meal. “Are you working on bringing that ‘pumpkin’ back, Chris?”

Chris takes a long drink from a bottle then gulps to speak. “Well, shir, I god no one _here_ to impresh!” He swings the bottle wildly, sweeping a pointed finger across other patrons in the bar.

Julian starts to speak, but Chris blurts out more words.

“An hey! Why didn’d you jush call me?” Chris clumsily smacks his combadge with his free hand. The resulting beep startles him, causing him to drop the near-empty bottle. “Oopsh.”

Julian looks to Quark with a raised brow. Quark makes a drinking gesture in return, implying that Chris has been hitting the bottles pretty hard.

Julian rolls his eyes. “I can see that, Quark, but why? What did I miss?”

“Ohh, I’d shay I mizzed aboud fiddy-fiddy,” Chris responds, “though I thingk I did bedder wid thad liddle Rommmulan number.”

Quark cocks his head at Julian and blinks. “Surely you’re familiar with this condition, doctor. The signature aftermath of self-loathing? I figured your ‘enhanced intellect’ would’ve offered a swift diagnosis.” He shakes his head. “You disappoint me.”

Julian reviews the spectacle before him and affirms the assessment. “Ah, I see.”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Quark says. “He’s in deep. He wants to be a knight in shining armor, like when you and O’Brien used to save whoever from the Jerry-somethings in the holosuites. But after _his_ demonstration with a phaser, I decided he’s better off passed out at the bar.”

“You’re sho unshuppordive… Cork.” Chris points his fork at Quark. “Fork… fwark.” He eyes the utensil closely and snorts.

Julian ignores Chris and speaks to Quark. “But… I thought his feelings for Kira were just echoes of the memories the Prophets implanted?”

“Maybe at first,” Quark shrugs, “but he’s hopeless now.”

“Sheeze bootiful,” Chris slurs, “really, really bootiful. And she shod ad me.” He lets out an emphatic sigh.

“You mean to say: she shot you down,” Julian corrects.

“Nno,” Chris makes a finger gun again and pokes Julian’s chest. “She lidderally… shod ad me.”

“Ah yes, she did at that,” Julian recalls the story of Chris’ unfortunate welcome.

Julian sighs at Quark. “Emotional baggage or no, we need him to identify a traitor.”

“Him?” Quark blinks and points at Chris. “That man couldn’t identify himself in a mirror right now.”

“Ohhh,” Chris’ head makes a slow droop to the side. “Why’d she hafta go and tell you aboud da mirror?”

Julian and Quark shrug at each other.

“Let me take it from here, Quark. I’m a doctor, remember?” Julian pries the fork from Chris’ hand. “We need to go now, Chris.”

Quark puts his hands up at shoulder height. “Suit yourself, but I claim no responsibility,” he says while stepping back from the counter.

Julian helps Chris from the barstool and steadies him as they head to the door.

“Julian,” Quark calls after them. “I was counting on him living long enough to pay for this eventually.” He points to the large spread of food empty bottles. “If he gets himself killed, I’m putting this on your tab!”

* * *

The blur surrounding Chris gets horribly bright as Julian leads him out of Quark’s bar and into the Promenade. Julian has a firm hold of his left arm to support his shaky steps, so Chris raises his right arm to cover his eyes. His coordination suffering, his hand bounces off of his forehead before settling into a shielding position.

“Are we going to she Nereesh?”

“Yes we are,” Julian grunts as he fights to keep Chris on course.

“I don’d thingk she likes me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Mmduhh… she shod ad me.”

“That’s ancient history, Chris… relatively speaking.” Julian qualifies the statement considering he’s talking to a relic from centuries in the past. “I’m sure she likes you just fine.”

“Bullshid,” Chris spits as he teeters. “She leff me.”

“She left you? What do you mean?”

“In opsh… affer the bomb.”

“Ah,” Julian nods despite having no idea the circumstances under which Kira ‘left’ Chris in Ops. “She’s working on something very important, Chris. I’m sure she didn’t…”

“Oh… thersh no queshsion she hades me.”

“She may not feel how you feel, but I highly doubt she _hates_ you. Right now, she needs your help. She asked me to come find you. That counts for something doesn’t it?”

“Waid,” Chris stumbles to a stop. “She can’d shee me lide dis. I godda lie down. Promish me she won’d she me lide dis.”

“It’s not time to rest yet, Chris,” Julian fights to compensate for Chris’ abrupt halt. “Don’t worry; I’ll fix you up. We need you to have a clear head. That’s why we’re going to the infirmary first.”

“Oh! I todally know thish one!” Chris’s eyes open wide and he thrusts his free hand towards Julian. “You can usze thad shtuff Shisko and MIlesh used to shtay shober on blood wine!”

“That’s very good, Chris. That’s _exactly_ what we’re going to use. However, that substance was designed to _prevent_ inebriation. We’ll have to see how quickly it helps to counteract it.”

“OK,” Chris transforms his open hand to a point, “bud don’d tell Nereesh I shaid she wasz bootiful.”

* * *

Julian manages to guide a stumbling Chris to the examination room of the infirmary. Being preoccupied with his patient, Julian fails to notice the Andorian in the room.

The Andorian had been rummaging through medical supplies, but Chris’ drunken ramblings gave him ample warning to ready a phaser.

“Hands up!” the Andorian commands as the pair staggers in. “No sudden moves.”

Julian puts his hands up as commanded, but narrows his eyes with a scowl. “Ensign Williams…”

Without Julian’s support, Chris melts to the floor, almost pulling the doctor down in the process.

“What’s wrong with him?” Williams demands.

“You’ve never seen a drunk man before?”

Williams chuckles at the moaning jumble on the floor then winces.

“And what, may I ask, is wrong with _you_?” Julian inquires.

“It seems one of your security officers was on to me. I don’t know how, but it doesn’t matter. I escaped with this.” The Andorian turns to reveal a wound consistent with a grazing phaser blast.

“And the officer?”

“He didn’t.”

Julian’s jaw tenses at the finality of the statement.

“I was trying to find a dermal regenerator,” Williams says while aiming more deliberately. “Get one for me. Now.”

“Alright,” Julian shakes his hands to emphasize his obedient pose. “Let’s not do anything rash.”

Julian glances down at Chris as he heads to a medical cabinet. Chris looks up and makes an incoherent hand signal in the Andorian’s direction. Julian fears that the incredibly drunk man is having delusions of grandeur.

“Just stay put, Chris.” Julian shakes his head and signals for Chris to stay down.

Though unable to physically intervene in the tense situation, Chris’ next act proves… sufficient.

“Juli… Julienn… I don’d feel sho good.”

Chris’ gut churns uncontrollably. Unable to stem the inevitable tide, he begins to get sick on the floor in glorious fashion.

While the Andorian is repulsed and shocked by what’s happening, Julian takes advantage of the situation. When Chris’ retching finally subsides, Julian is standing over the Andorian, covering him with the phaser.

“Well done, Chris. Excellent diversion.”

Chris manages a pathetic grin at Julian and prepares to speak, but instead gets sick on the floor yet again.

“Oh, God,” Chris moans with one hand on the floor and the other waving, outstretched as he pleads. “If I live, you can’d… tell Nereesh aboud dis.”

Julian keeps the phaser directed at the Andorian while he retrieves the drug he came for.

After Chris’ stomach stops churning, he distances himself from his ‘distraction’ and props himself against a wall. He clutches his gut and groans. Julian kneels down to administer the hypo-spray, keeping a close eye on his captive.

“I hope this works quickly, Chris, for your sake, and because I don’t believe we have an abundance of time before the others suspect ill has become of us.”

“Sorry aboud your car…” Chris fights another convulsion and swallows. “Your carped.” Chris groans and looks disgusted.

“No worries. We’ll have our ‘guest’ clean it up later. Here,” Julian hands Chris a stack of absorbent cloths. “Try and tidy yourself up.”

The drug begins to work quickly, as hoped, and Chris cleans himself up.

In the meantime, Julian tosses a dermal regenerator to the Andorian. “You don’t deserve this after what you’ve done, but we can’t have you bleeding all over the place. The colonel will surely want to have a word with you.”

“You don’t really expect me to answer any questions, do you?” the Andorian scoffs.

Julian narrows his eyes at Williams. “Oh, I somehow doubt that she’ll have any _questions_.”

The indirect threat adds a hint of concern to the Andorian’s face. Kira _does_ have a reputation.

Still glaring at his prisoner, Julian calls over his shoulder. “How are you coming along, Chris?”

“I think I missed myself for the most part. And… I’m starting to feel like myself again—only worse.”

“Worse?”

"Well, physically… I think I'm fine," Chris grumbles, "but I feel rejected, pathetic, and embarrassed. All things considered, we're getting ready to meet the last person on this station I want to see right now."


	15. Star Witness

**Chapter Fifteen: Star Witness**

Julian binds the Andorian’s hands with a tourniquet from an emergency med kit before leading him out of the infirmary.

On their way to the security office, Chris notes that the station’s primary physician pointing a phaser at a wounded Andorian in a Federation uniform draws surprisingly little attention. His vantage point for this observation is ideal because he sluggishly lags several paces behind the pair.

Chris is dreading what he is positive will be an extremely uncomfortable reunion with Kira. He recalls their previous encounter in her devastated office.

_Why’d I try to hold her? Why couldn’t I leave well enough alone? I wasn’t_ really _gonna kiss her, but it’s like she knew_ exactly _what I was thinking._

The closer they get to the security office, the more Chris wishes he was still at the bottom of a bottle at Quark’s.

When Julian and Chris arrive at the sealed door of the security office with their Andorian prisoner, Kira and Ezri are once again fixated on data-filled screens within.  Julian taps on the door then points to his prisoner despite the obviousness of his presence.

Much like before, the women jump at the sudden disruption of silence.

“Dammit Ju…” Kira’s words, muffled by the door, halt abruptly as she spots the Andorian.

As Kira stares through the glass bewildered, Chris pretends to be distracted by something on the upper level of the Promenade. Though he knows it’s impossible, Chris feels a twist in his gut as though she’s privy to all his actions, words, and private thoughts over the past couple of hours. He’s terrified to look in her eyes as he believes he’ll see that embarrassing knowledge lurking behind them.

Kira releases the door lock and eagerly awaits the story behind Julian’s apprehension of the Andorian.

The trio shuffles inside and the door seals behind them. Chris steps off to the side, happy that Kira is keenly focused on Julian and his captive. As he settles into a corner, he briefly meets Ezri’s eyes as she welcomes him with a warm “hello again” and a smile, but his self-consciousness quickly draws his attention to the floor after an abbreviated “hi.”

After a brief delay, Ezri speaks excitedly. “Oh my goodness! Chris, are you bleeding?”

“Huh?” Chris looks up and blinks, then follows her gaze to his shirt. “Oh, that; no. I uh, lost a fight with a bottle of steak sauce.”

Williams scoffs. “I’m surprised you’re not covered in…”

Julian applies sharp pressure to a tender spot of the Andorian’s shoulder, replacing his words with a grimace.

* * *

Kira closes her eyes and shakes her head subtly. Not only has Julian yet to explain how he’s come to have the Andorian in custody, but she already regrets asking that Chris be brought here. She’s still mad about the way he looked at her in her office—and that he dared touch her. The fact that he provided the warning that allowed her to narrowly escape an attempt on her life is beside the point.

_I don’t know what he was thinking, but it sure as hell wasn’t “you’re welcome.”_

Kira finds Chris’ behavior immediately aggravating. He’s been keeping his distance, turning away any time she looks in his direction, and generally acting uncomfortable in his own skin. She has a pretty good idea of how he feels, but his behavior strikes her as highly immature.

_I wish Julian hadn’t found him._

Shoving the thought aside, Kira looks to Julian for the explanation she’s been waiting for.

* * *

Julian quickly recognizes Kira’s expectant stare. “Ah, yes. We, uh, ‘crossed paths’ with this fellow along the way,” he reports. He omits mention of the infirmary and details of the Andorian’s apprehension to minimize the odds that Chris’ embarrassing display becomes a topic of discussion.

“You just… ‘crossed paths’?” Kira straightens from her inquisitive lean and blinks.

Julian ignores the request for clarification and changes the subject. “More importantly, I’m afraid he’s killed one of our security officers. I’m not sure who.”

Ezri gasps before her face droops in sorrow. At the same time, Kira’s face warps with rage.

“You need to get him to a cell before I do something…” Kira begins sternly.

“What… that you’ll regret, colonel?” Williams scoffs. “You’re so cliché. Sisko was much more eloquent. He had _presence_.”

“Oh, I am _so_ sorry to disappoint you with my _simple_ words. I was _going_ to say: before I do something that I’ll have to answer to the admiral for. I sent two men looking for you, and they’re both practically _family_ to me. Don’t think for _one second_ I’d regret eliminating your ‘presence’ right here.”

The Andorian’s wide eyes blink twice before Julian pushes him towards the holding cells and out of Kira’s sight.

* * *

Watching quietly from a corner of the security office, Chris finds Kira’s livid expression and tone all too familiar.

_Damn, she literally wanted to_ kill _me yesterday. Julian said she needs my help, but she doesn’t act like she wants me here one bit. Yet here I am, hopelessly in…_

“Chris,” Kira says calmly.

Kira’s tone has changed so drastically from her angry words at the Andorian that Chris’ cruel imagination interprets it as a beckoning call full of want. His eyes snap from the floor to meet a gaze that is instead overflowing with irritation. Her abbreviated eye roll stings.

“It seems we may have brought you here for nothing,” Kira says.

Still recovering from his gross misinterpretation, “huh?” is all Chris can manage.

“Williams and his friend have been busy,” Ezri elaborates. “They’ve wiped a large number of personnel records, including those for the security force.”

“We were _going_ to have you look through the image files, but those are gone now.” Kira gestures with her hands then lets them fall onto the desk in a forced display of hopelessness.

“So?” Chris says dismissively.

“So?” Kira questions, surprised at Chris’ attitude. “ _So_ … you can’t identify our traitor.”

“Not with the pictures, but I can still point him out in person.” Chris demonstrates by pointing to the office doors.

“I’ve become a target. You seriously think I’m going to let you follow me around the station?”

“Yes,” Chris speaks and nods slowly as he shifts his eyes between Kira and Ezri. “That would be the point.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Kira shakes her head. “Completely out of the question.”

“Like you even care.” Chris had the impulsive thought surely enough, but he’s as shocked as the others to hear the words come out of his mouth. He watches anger overtake Kira’s features.

“Now look,” Kira points. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to snap out of it and act like the adult you appear to be. You may have seven years’ worth of crap in your head to base this… this… childish crush on, but I’ve known you less than two days. I don’t think…”

“I saved your life!” Chris blurts out without thinking.

Kira smacks her palms on the desk and leans forward to glare at Chris. “Thank you! But that doesn’t mean I’m going to jump into your little daydream. You may not believe it, but I _do_ care. I care about you, I care about them, I care about everyone on this station. But everything we’re doing right now? It’s because the man _I_ _love_ is in danger! Yesterday you said you knew that. Suck it up and act like it!”

Chris falls speechless. It’s true that he knows how Kira feels about Odo, but the angry statements hit hard. He looks to the floor, trying to find evidence of the heart that’s been ripped from his chest.

“Ohhhkayyy,” Ezri says with a clap. “I think we’ve _all_ had a rough day. How about we take a little break and regroup. We need to dial back the emotion in here and walk through the facts when Julian gets back.”

“I heard my name; did I miss anything?” Julian walks around the corner from the hall to the holding cells to find disparate expressions. Kira looks irate, Chris looks devastated, and Ezri looks overwhelmed. “I believe I did.”

“I don’t need a break,” Kira says angrily under her breath. “I need answers.” She stands from the desk and brushes past Julian on her way to the holding cells.

“You were just trying to _scare_ Williams earlier, right?” Julian calls after Kira.

Kira doesn’t respond.

“Right?!”

* * *

Chris sits in a corner of the security office, lost in his thoughts.

Ezri and Julian stand near the small replicator in the office, requesting hot drinks from it as they catch each other up in hushed tones.

“Who else is involved?!” Kira’s muffled yell drifts around the corner.

Blinking and smiling in a poor attempt at ignoring Kira’s voice, Ezri looks to Chris. “Would you like something to drink, Chris?”

With no sign of a forthcoming response, Julian answers for him. “Coffee. He was drinking coffee yesterday at breakfast.”

“What am I going to find in that cargo?!” Kira’s raised voice is heard again, the soft volume belying the strained tone.

“Here you go.” Ezri kneels down to look a seated Chris in the eye as she offers a steaming mug. “This might help shake the last of that alcohol.”

Chris scoffs. “Told you about that, huh?” he says as he takes the mug. “Thanks. This hasn’t been one of my proudest days.”

“You saved someone’s life today,” Ezri says as she squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t forget that.”

Kira’s muted yell can be heard once more. “Fine, but when Starfleet’s done with you, your ass is mine!”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Well, I know at least _one_ person who’d like thank me for it.”

Ezri isn’t sure if Chris’ comment is sarcasm or some cryptic, brooding remark. The slight curve of his mouth implies he’s sarcastically suggesting Williams would like to thank him for saving Kira’s life, but his eyes and brow underline his belief that Kira herself wouldn’t.

* * *

Kira steps around the corner from the holding cells unnoticed. She spies Chris, still in the corner, staring into a mug of coffee. Julian and Ezri share whispers behind the desk.

“…and the look on Williams’ face when Chris got sick,” Julian chuckles quietly. “He was _thoroughly_ disgusted. That’s when I knew I had the opportunity to catch him by surprise.”

“Julian,” Chris says at over-hearing the conversation, “I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone about…”

Chris falls silent as he spots Kira in the doorway. She watches his face pale in embarrassment.

“Feel better now?” Julian asks Kira before anyone has a chance to speak.

“I do,” Kira replies. “I didn’t get anything out of him, but I was able to vent some aggression at someone who actually deserved it.” She faces Chris with regret. “I’m sorry, Chris; what I said was hurtful.”

“It was the truth,” Chris shrugs. “I’m sorry for making things complicated.”

The tension in the room is high as the two stare at each other.

“That’s _wonderful_ ,” Ezri says with a nervous smile. “Apologies are a healthy start. And… I should be the _last_ person to abandon this topic, but let’s leave this one on a high note and focus on the bigger issue. The galaxy could be at stake, remember?”

“Right,” Kira nods and end to her awkward stare with Chris. “Dax and I have been going through the data, so we have a better idea of what we’re looking for. We’ll head to cargo bay 12 and start digging.”

“That’s one of the larger bays on the station,” Julian says. “It could take _hours_ for you to locate a specific shipment in there. If they went to the trouble of hiding its presence in the logs, surely they wouldn’t have left the shipment’s ID transceiver in place. You’ll have to scan _every_ container.”

“But they _didn’t_ hide it in the logs,” Kira counters. “It was right under our noses. Tampering with transceivers would just draw attention to it.”

“Granted, but there’s still the small detail of this cargo being malicious in nature, nevermind the fact that there’s at least one man willing to kill to protect it.”

Chris clears his throat. “A man whose face I could recognize. I should go too.”

Kira shakes her head emphatically. “That’s not going to hap…”

“They both have good points, Kira,” Ezri interrupts. “We should _all_ go. Two more sets of eyes to find what we’re looking for and… safety in numbers, right?”

Kira glances around as the others nod. “All right. We go together. But the two of you need to help keep an eye out for security personnel and _discretely_ point them out to Chris. And likewise, Chris, be subtle about letting us know if you spot the man from your vision.”

Another round of nods follows.

“Are you both armed?” Kira glances at Ezri and Julian.

“Yes, sir,” Julian responds.

“Absolutely,” Ezri answers.

Kira pulls a Bajoran phaser from an arms locker and changes the settings on it. She slides it in a holster and hands it over to Chris. “This is set to stun.”

Chris is shocked and makes no move to receive the weapon. “Uh, are you sure you want me to have that?”

“I’m not going to take you into a potentially dangerous situation unarmed. If you insist on coming, you take this.”

Chris hesitantly takes the weapon and attaches the holster to his waistband. He looks to Kira for a nod of approval that he’s put it on correctly.

“How’s it look out there?” Kira asks Julian, who’s been peeking through the doors to the Promenade.

“No sign of anyone in a security uniform,” Julian answers, continuing to scan passersby, “and no one acting suspiciously as far as I can tell.”

“Considering your keen eye, doctor, I think it’s as good a time as any to make our move.”

Kira hasn’t left the security office since the explosion in her office. Anyone aggressively seeking her out would know her location by now. By the same token, they would also know that her investigation is no longer private. Given the choice between killing multiple people to halt the investigation and changing tactics entirely, she hopes their secretive enemy chooses the latter.

“OK everyone,” Kira says, “we don’t want to spook anyone into doing anything stupid. While we’re in the Promenade, try to act… natural.” She scoffs at herself. “Damn, that Andorian’s got me spitting out clichés now.”

Kira disengages the door seal and leads the group out of the security office.


	16. A Book by Its Cover

**Chapter Sixteen: A Book by Its Cover**

As Kira, Julian, Ezri, and Chris make their way to cargo bay 12 to investigate suspicious cargo, the group keeps an eye out for security personnel and dubious characters. They have no idea if the other traitor Chris can identify knows they have the Andorian in custody, or if he’ll remain in a security officer’s uniform. They also can’t assume that the two men from Chris’ vision are the only ones involved.

Julian is the first to break the quartet’s silence. “You know… I don’t believe ‘act natural’ is truly a cliché.”

As Kira scoffs, Ezri tips a glance at Julian. “It most _definitely_ is.”

“I’d say it’s more accurately an oxymoron. How can one ‘act natural’ if they’re acting?”

“That’s beside the point,” Ezri rolls her eyes.

“Pardon me,” Julian says, “but I was _trying_ to reassure the colonel that she is not as Williams described.”

“I appreciate the sentiment doctor,” Kira says, “but his opinion wasn’t a concern.”

“Confidence of character,” Julian declares with a smile. “I admire that about you, colonel—as I did of Sisko.”

As Kira considers the statement and nods in appreciation, Ezri pauses her stride. She steps quickly to pace Julian again.

“Hey,” Ezri says and taps Julian’s shoulder. “What about me?”

“My _dear_ Dax, with nine personalities to your name you have _many_ strengths, but a singular and unwavering character is simply not one of them.”

“Oh… well thank you,” Ezri forms a smile that’s quickly overcome with doubt. “Wait…”

Chris shakes his head and scoffs.

“Something on your mind, Chris?” Kira asks over her shoulder.

“I… I know how things appeared on ‘show’ but… it’s just… there are people willing to _kill_ over whatever we’re checking out, and the three of you seem so _casual_ about it. It’s comforting to a degree, but…”

“But you don’t think we’re taking it seriously,” Kira guesses at the completion of Chris’ thought.

“Maybe. I dunno,” Chris shrugs. “I guess life-threatening situations are just… typical for you. I may have died in the wormhole, but I’m not too excited about…”

“Died?” A shocked Ezri grabs Chris’ arm, pulling them to a halt. Julian displays marked surprise and stops as well.

Chris speaks to Kira who’s still walking ahead. “I figured you’d told them by now.”

“I didn’t,” Kira turns around when she realizes she’s lost her entourage. “I got the impression you wanted it kept private.”

“Right,” Chris says as he scrunches his forehead. Given the tension between them, he felt more comfortable looking at Kira’s back. He can’t resist the impulse to break eye contact, but after her harsh words about immature behavior in the security office, he forces himself to look her in the eyes. “I guess I did. Thanks.”

Chris can tell Kira picked up on his struggle. Her sigh of annoyance hurts. Until he can accept the way things are and move on, things are going to be difficult.

“Now that we know,” Julian prods, “tell us the whole story. What happened in the wormhole?”

“Well…” Chris begins as he glances between the others. He doesn’t want to keep looking at Kira’s vexed expression, so he settles on Ezri’s eager inquisitiveness. “I don’t remember my time there very well, but Jake told me that I… died. I’m pretty sure it was a heart attack; I’ve been remembering the pain. Anyway… I was ‘stuck’ there from when the Prophets plucked me from home… until Sisko found me. I think I told you the rest last night.”

“Were you really… _dead_ for three centuries?” Ezri’s words overflow with sympathy.

The brief summary of his ordeal was relatively painless to provide, but Chris momentarily relives his panic from the sea of white after seeing Ezri’s horrified reaction. He shrugs and quickly turns to Julian, hoping to find a face that doesn’t stir so many emotions.

Julian interprets Chris’ stare as a plea to help answer Ezri’s question. He shrugs as well. “I can’t even _begin_ to guess how long you were in the wormhole—given the non-linear nature of its inhabitants. And… the tests I ran showed no scar tissue, no sign of a heart attack whatsoever. Granted, the Prophets changed you, so there’s likely nothing to find. I could still run more tests if you wish.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Ezri says, regaining Chris’ attention. “I know you’ve been through a lot, being brought here and all—but experiencing death? Now we _really_ need to talk—and soon.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kira quietly agrees with both officers’ requests for Chris’ time as she peeks around the corner they’d stopped near. “That’ll have to wait,” she says as she beckons with her fingers. “Chris, I need to you take a look at the officer by the turbolift. He’s one of the newer recruits; I don’t know him very well.”

Kira steps back from the corner and Chris peeks around. “It’s not him,” he says as he shakes his head.

“OK,” Kira says, “but we need to be ready just in case. We don’t know who else may be involved. Is everyone ready to move on?”

After a round of nods, the four walk around the corner and head to the turbolift. Julian stays in the rear with his phaser drawn for an extra measure of preparedness. As they approach the officer, he speaks calmly.

“Afternoon, sir. Sorry to hear what happened in Ops. Glad everyone’s OK. Any orders?”

“Thank you; no,” Kira responds flatly. “Just maintain your post and report any suspicious activity. We still haven’t found who’s responsible.”

“Yes, sir.”

Other than polite nods to the rest of the group, the officer pays them little mind as they board the turbolift.

“Docking bay six,” Kira commands.

“But, colonel,” Julian is confused, “that’s not…”

“I _know_ , doctor,” Kira says sternly under her breath.

As the turbolift leaves the Promenade, Kira turns to Julian. “I know docking bay six isn’t the closest station to cargo bay 12, but I don’t want to broadcast our destination to someone I don’t explicitly trust—just like I didn’t want to mention having Williams in a cell. The less they think we know, the better. I thought your spy programs would’ve taught you that.”

“Yes, sir. Understood,” Julian sighs at the embarrassing demonstration of brilliant versus clever.

“Computer, override destination,” Kira orders. “Docking bay four.”

Soft chirps acknowledge the course change along the station’s turbolift network.

“And before you say anything, Julian, I know that’s not the closest station either.”

“Right. If they have any notion where we’re going, they’ll know the best places to wait for us. I’m with you now, colonel.”

“Good,” Kira smiles and nods at Julian.

Unconsciously, Chris smiles in reaction to Kira’s improving mood. Making eye contact, both faces darken and they glance away. Ezri softly sighs.

* * *

Kira, Julian, Ezri, and Chris travel the rest of the way to cargo bay 12 without encountering any more security officers or suspicious individuals. They enter the cargo bay unhindered and perform a quick tricorder check to make sure they have the expansive room to themselves.

“Before we start looking,” Kira glances at everyone, “keep in mind that we don’t know what we’ll find. The log says it’s a shipment of textbooks, but that’s most definitely a cover.”

Chris snickers.

Kira blinks. “Did I say something funny?”

Chris sheepishly bites his tongue as Julian responds. “Cover. Books. I’m sure it was an unintentional pun.”

Kira rolls her eyes and scoffs. “As I was saying… be careful. We may find weapons; we may find a bomb.”

Chris covers a forced cough to remove the last of his grin. “Wouldn’t the station’s sensors pick up something like that?”

“Normally, but I’m not making any assumptions today. Just… don’t touch anything until we find out what we’re dealing with.”

Chris and Kira share an uncomfortable nod.

“OK, Dax,” Kira turns to the Lieutenant. “Where’s that shipment?”

“Hmm…” Ezri looks up from her tricorder. “I’m not quite sure.”

“Was Julian right? Did they tamper with transceivers?”

Ezri raises her eyebrows and blinks. “Well, they either tampered with enough of them to make this room a proverbial haystack, as Sisko would say, or every container in this room belongs to the same shipment. Not only do the transceivers imply it but, as far as I can tell, every crate in this room contains similar materials.”

“You mean... all of it?”

Ezri nods. “All of it.”

“Then there’s definitely a lot of _something_ in here,” Kira says as she reaches for the latches on the nearest crate. “Stand back.”

The others take a couple steps backwards as Kira carefully unlatches the crate. After lifting the lid slowly and peeking inside, she callously tosses the lid to the floor. The others jump in surprise.

Kira leans over the crate and shakes her head in disbelief. “Books. They _really are_ books.”

Julian steps forward and looks inside. “Approximately one point four million—if the rest of the crates hold a similar number as this one.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kira says in a daze. “I… don’t understand.”

“What kind of book is this?” Chris says as he picks one up and thumbs through it. “I don’t recognize the language.”

“This is… ‘A Study of Bajoran Poetry’,” Kira says as she looks over Chris’ shoulder.

As Chris continues to thumb the pages, Kira stops him by touching his arm.

 “Chris,” Kira speaks nervously.

“What?” Chris freezes, not knowing what’s behind her sudden concern.

“Julian?” Kira’s quick glance in Julian’s direction is almost panicked. “Prophets help me if a damned book…”

“What?” Chris asks again after Kira doesn’t finish her thought.

“What’ve you got?” Julian steps over to see the cause of the fuss.

Kira grabs Chris’ wrist and rotates his hand palm-up. Three of his fingertips are smudged with ink.

“Uh…” Chris stares at his hand with wide eyes. “Ink shouldn’t do this—not from a bound book.” He looks to Kira with panic of his own. “What have I touched?”

“What is it, Julian?” Kira relays the question. She watches anxiously as Julian opens his tricorder and scans Chris’ hand.

“It doesn’t appear to be poisonous—if that was your concern. But Chris is right; this isn’t ink.”

Kira and Chris share a sigh of relief.

“As long as you’re sure it’s not dangerous…” Kira says as she pats Chris’ shoulder. “But if someone’s willing to kill over this, it’s _got_ to be something much worse.”

Chris relives the panic and drama of the explosive attempt on Kira’s life. He shudders at how close she’d come to being hurt. He does his best to shake the thought by remembering other tense and dangerous situations these ‘characters’ have overcome in his implanted memories.

“OK,” Kira looks around the cargo hold, scratching her head. “Before we focus too closely on this, let’s see if any of these hold more than just books.”

Chris hesitates and stares at the stains on his hand as the others spread out to open more crates. Regaining his composure, he walks to a container Ezri opened. He plucks a book from inside and cautiously rubs a clean finger across a page.

“They’re different,” Chris announces. “The ‘inks’ they used… they’re different.”

Kira nods to Julian as everyone converges on Chris. Even without the aid of a tricorder, the different colors on Chris’ fingers confirm the claim.

“This stuff is so concentrated that it looks dark, essentially black,” Chris says as he displays his smudged fingers, “but smear it and you can see the difference.”

Julian scans Chris’ hand with his tricorder. “The compounds _are_ different, but I’ll need to take them to the lab to know more.”

“Maybe on their _own_ they’re not poisonous,” Ezri guesses, “but perhaps they’re separate components of a biological weapon.”

“Shit…” Chris’ eyes widen and he feverishly rubs his stained fingers on his pants.

“Doctor?” Kira’s eye snap to Julian.

“Calm down, Chris,” Julian takes Chris’ hand. “Allow me.”

Julian pulls an object Chris doesn’t recognize from his medical pouch and starts removing the ‘ink’ from his fingertips.

“What’s that?” Chris asks in amazement as the substances are washed away.

“A simple cleanser, nothing more,” Julian makes no effort to hide a wry smile. “I use this to clean my hands before treating anyone in the field.”

Chris lets out another sigh of relief when all foreign color is removed from his fingertips.

“And in regard to the sharp observation of my _favorite_ Lieutenant,” Julian says with a smile, “her theory is quite plausible. We’ll need to find out how many  substances we’re dealing with so I can take a sample of each to the lab. And if it helps…” he directs at Chris, “if this truly is a biological weapon designed to harm the Founders, odds are we’re not at risk.”

“What kind of odds?” Chris asks nervously.

“Miniscule, my friend,” Julian taps his temple, “given the very unique physiology it’s been engineered to affect.”

“Julian,” Kira says, dumbfounded by his dismissiveness, “if we even _suspect_ this is a biological weapon designed to harm the Founders, I want it destroyed as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Julian responds, “but we need to study these substances to confirm their purpose and prepare ourselves in the event anyone tries the same approach again. For all we know, there’s more than what’s in this room. Without study, I can’t create a countermeasure.”

“Alright,” Kira nods. “But once we find out what we’re dealing with, I want all of it incinerated.”

The group opens several more crates until Julian is statistically confident that there are only three unique compounds among them.

“Well, it seems poetry plus history plus math equals trouble,” Julian remarks with a grin.

Ezri makes a face at Julian for the bad attempt at humor.

“Julian,” Kira says after rolling her eyes, “take Ezri and your samples to the lab and start running tests. I’ll hand-pick some people to secure the cargo, but we don’t want to tip anyone off that we’ve found this in the meantime. Chris and I will close what we’ve opened and catch up with you.”

Julian nods. He and Ezri take their trio of books and head to the medical lab.

* * *

With Julian and Ezri gone, Chris finds himself alone with Kira Nerys and his jumbled mess of feelings for her. She’s yelled at him and shot at him, but he still feels a flutter every time he looks at her.

_Is she right? Is it just a childish crush?_

Chris remembers his own words about the possibility that the Prophets are influencing his feelings.

_If they’re doing this, they’re doing a damn good job of selling it._

Chris has subconsciously distanced himself from Kira as they work to close crates. He looks up to find her several aisles away—close enough to see, but far enough to avoid a conversation. After the way she snapped at him in the security office, Chris decides it’s for the best. He maintains the distance purposefully. Being alone with her, he’s too anxious and self-conscious to consider talking.

* * *

Kira is acutely aware of silence as she and Chris work to close book-filled crates. He’s obviously keeping a distance on purpose: every time she moves to close a crate, he moves to one at least four rows away. She knows what he’s going through—she’s seen it before—but there’s nothing she can say that can help. What’s bothering him is the truth: he has feelings for her while she’s still deeply in love with someone else. She sympathizes with his situation, if only because she knows Odo was in the exact same place more than once.

_Do I feel bad for Chris, or am I just now fully appreciating what Odo went through?_

Kira remembers her conversation with Ezri in the turbolift after the explosion. She sighs.

_She’s right; I haven’t been very kind._

Kira looks over to see Chris fighting a stubborn latch. Watching his frustration grow, she decides to close the distance between them.

“Chris…” she starts to speak.

Without turning from the crate, Chris puts a hand up. “Can we just get this done and get back to the others? My head’s a mess and I don’t want to talk about it. The last thing I want is to argue with you.”

Kira sighs at Chris’ refusal to look at her. “I was just going to say… thank you for the warning today. And… I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did.”

Head down, Chris halfheartedly fidgets with the latch as Kira speaks. When she stops, he reluctantly turns to face her.

Kira must’ve blinked. Chris suddenly grabs her shoulders and pulls her close.

“What the…?!” She says in alarm.

_Is he seriously trying to kiss me?_

Kira tries to back away, but Chris’ grip is surprisingly firm. It takes too long for Kira to notice the panic in his eyes—and that his focus is over her shoulder. She immediately knows who he’s seen. “Oh… shit.”

Chris’ eyes widen further as the traitor draws a weapon. He spins Nerys and himself abruptly and pushes as hard as he can. Unprepared, Kira falls backward out of the aisle as Chris stumbles in the opposite direction. A phaser blast nearly misses him before he crouches behind cover.

“Sorry!” Chris yells, cringing at the unexpected effectiveness of his shove. He’s not the overweight man that can’t manage a single push-up anymore. “That’s the guy!”

“I gathered that!” Kira yells as she scrambles to a crouch behind a crate and draw her phaser. “Why the hell’d you _push_ me?!”

Chris shrugs, then flinches as a phaser blast hits a crate beside him. “It was the only way I thought I could move you in time!”

“And you were gonna just _stand_ there?!”

Chris shrugs. Two more phaser blasts hit crates near him in quick succession.

Kira huffs. As annoying as Chris’ behavior has been, she’s seen it as harmless.

_He’s going to get himself killed if he pulls another stunt like that._

Kira surveys the situation and grunts in frustration.

_But right now, I need him._

“I need to get over there,” Kira tips her head to a nearby bulkhead. “Cover me!”

“Wait!” Chris yells. “What does that even mean?”

“Point that,” Kira points to the phaser in Chris’ hand, “over there,” she points towards the traitor, “and pull the trigger a few times—but keep your head down!”

After a phaser blast hits too close for comfort, Kira watches Chris nervously point his weapon around the corner and shoot wildly. Satisfied that he’s relatively safe, she makes a break for the bulkhead.

In reaction to Kira’s movement, the traitor fires in her direction. A shower of sparks and cloud of smoke erupt from a support beam as she runs past it.

Reaching cover against the bulkhead, Kira catches her breath. She needs a chance to either flank the traitor further or take aim on his position. Two more phaser blasts nearby make it apparent that she is his primary focus.

Kira hears more phaser fire, but no subsequent impacts. She peeks out to see Chris firing more blind shots at the traitor, forcing him to return fire at Chris’ position instead.

Kira grunts and spins around the bulkhead to draw a bead on their attacker. As she begins to take aim, the traitor is no longer aiming a phaser, but pressing buttons on a device.

Before Kira can fire, a red alert sounds and the crates begin to de-materialize. She turns her head just in time to see Chris dematerialize along with the crate he was using for cover.

“Chris!!”

Kira turns back to see the traitor moving to aim his phaser in her direction. She hadn’t changed her firing position so she easily beats him to the trigger. After the man crumples to the ground, she smacks her combadge hard.

“Kira to Ops! Lock the station down! Tractor any vessel attempting to leave!”

“Sorry, colonel, but we’ve got widespread system failures. We’ll do what we can.”

Kira smacks her combadge again. “Kira to Defiant!”

“Uh, Defiant here?”

“Depart immediately! Disable any ship trying to leave!”

“I’m… just a security detail, sir. The standby crew hasn’t returned from maintenance leave.”

“Dammit!” Kira slams her combadge again, “Kira to Chris!”

Kira hears the telltale tone that the connection to Chris’ combadge failed.  Long-range communications must be down on the station and he must already be out of combadge range.  For that to happen so quickly, whatever ship beamed the cargo away has gone to warp—or worse yet, entered the wormhole.

The piercing alarm subsides, but red lights continue to flash around Kira as she stands alone, stunned, in the empty cargo bay. She taps her combadge slowly. Her voice shakes.

“Kira to Dax… Chris is gone.”

* * *

Julian and Dax hear the red alert sound. Less than sixty seconds later, they hear Kira’s heart-wrenching report.

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Ezri asks, distraught. “What happened?!”

“The traitor showed up. We exchanged fire. He… he managed to trigger some device—must’ve signaled a ship to beam the cargo away. Chris was taking cover among the crates. They… they have him.”

Julian and Ezri can tell that Kira is shaken. “Dammit!” they hear her exclaim, closely followed by a loud noise as something clangs across the cargo bay floor.

“He saved me again, you know,” Kira’s tone swings between rage and remorse. “That bastard would’ve shot me in the back, but Chris spotted him first—almost got himself killed.”

“It’s not your fault, Kira,” Ezri says, “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“Yes there is, I could’ve shot this son-of-a-bitch sooner.”

Julian and Ezri hear a muffled thud, presumably caused by a firm kick to the stunned traitor.

“I know you, Kira,” Ezri says. “If you could have, you would have.”

“I _should_ have,” Kira ignores Ezri’s reassurances. “I let this happen.”

“Kira, Julian’s been talking to Ops. Long-range communications are down. If Chris is on a ship…”

“I’ve already tried my combadge and got nothing. Any good news?”

“Only more bad news. It seems someone sabotaged defensive and weapons systems in addition to communications. As soon as the red alert sounded, a Keldon class cruiser decloaked right on top of the station. It recloaked, but they’re pretty sure it headed for the wormhole.”

“Keldon class? Cardassian? Cloaked?” Kira says each with an increasing amount of disbelief. “The only time we’ve seen something like that is…”

“When the Cardassians and the Romulans tried to bombard the Founder homeworld,” Ezri finishes Kira’s sentence.

“Right, and as far as _I_ know, none of those ships made it back.”

“I’m just relaying reports, sir,” Ezri says. “Julian says Nog’s on board the Defiant. He’s prepping her now.”

“Good. I need a crew on board immediately. I believe we’ll have a speed advantage, but not much. We’ll have to leave soon to make it count. Dax, meet me on board. Tell Julian to keep working on those samples. We need to find out what we’re dealing with and how to neutralize it since I let it slip away. Hopefully Ops can get long-range communications back up in time for that to matter.” Kira lets out a frustrated growl. “Dammit! I _knew_ that Andorian had been poking around Ops. I should’ve followed up on it.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that now, Kira. Quit blaming yourself. My diagnostic yesterday didn’t turn up _anything_. He was good at hiding his work. No amount of ‘following up’ would’ve mattered. We need to focus on getting Chris back.”

“Of course,” Kira sighs. “I’ll see you on the Defiant.”


	17. Stowaway

**Chapter Seventeen: Stowaway**

Chris’ existence in the 24th century is going on approximately 36 hours. Of the incredible things he’s experienced so far, being unexpectedly dismantled and ‘beamed’ as a collection of subatomic particles is not one he would categorize as ‘positive’. Given the circumstances under which he’s experienced his first transport, Chris is terrified.

As the bizarre and unnerving sensation subsides, Chris realizes something.

_Nerys and the traitor weren’t near the crates. They’re still back there!_

Chris clamps his eyes shut and reminds himself that Bajoran Militia Colonel Kira Nerys is an accomplished soldier that can take care of herself. His heart racing, he hears a single thought repeating in his mind.

_She’ll kick his ass. She’ll kick is ass. She’ll…_

Chris blows out a long breath and pictures a smug grin on Kira’s face after putting the traitor down. He smiles at his optimistic imagination.

_Of course she will; she’s a badass. There’s nothing to worry about._

When Chris opens his eyes, the reality of his own situation sinks in.

_If she’s “back there,” where the hell am I?_

The style of the walls surrounding Chris is very much like the cargo bay on Deep Space Nine, but the colors are wrong. The drab metallics of the station are replaced with warmer yellows. In addition to differences in appearance, the relative silence of the station is replaced with an ominous hum.

_I’m not on the station… I’m on a ship!_

From what he can see while crouched among the crates, Chris has no doubt he’s on a Cardassian vessel.

_But I thought they were ‘good guys’ now? Though… I guess I thought all Bajoran security officers were ‘good guys’ too._

Confident he’s _not_ in friendly territory, Chris remains still. He strains to listen for any sign that he’s sharing this new cargo bay with anyone. After hearing nothing for what feels like an eternity, he dares to try his combadge.

“Chris to Kira,” he whispers after tapping.

There’s no response.

He taps his badge again. “Chris to Kira.”

Tap. “Chris to Bashir.”

Tap. “Chris to Dax.”

After each command, Chris notes a series of descending tones he’s not heard before. After several failed attempts, he concludes that his combadge is simply unable to make a connection.

_Damn. Surely they know I’m gone…_

Having already risked speaking aloud and hearing nothing in response, Chris works up the courage to poke his head above the crates. From what he can tell, he’s alone.

Chris smirks with confidence as silence and solitude implies something significant.

_She got that bastard. Someone would’ve come for me if she hadn’t._

In addition to Kira’s likely victory, the lone, soft hum suggests Chris’ presence on the ship is unknown.

_No alarms. At least there’s that._

Chris chews his lip as he thinks. If he’s careful, he might be able to remain hidden until the others come for him.

_That’s what they’ll do: charge in on the Defiant. It’s only a matter of time. I just need to stay out of sight._

Looking around, Chris is reminded of what he and Kira were doing before the traitor appeared.

_We didn’t finish closing crates! If anyone sees them open…_

Chris looks down to find he’s still clutching his phaser. His aim is so abysmal that the weapon offers him little protection, but he feels safer holding it nonetheless. Needing both hands to close crates, he reluctantly relaxes his grip and holsters the weapon.

Closing crates as quickly as he dares, Chris battles nagging fears about Kira’s fate. Every time he reassures himself she’s OK, another grisly scenario comes to mind. He repeatedly sifts through gifted memories for examples of Kira in combat. Little by little, he solidifies his confidence that she’s dramatically and decisively prevailed in the cargo bay.

_That guy picked a fight with the wrong damn Bajoran._

Chris looks around nervously after a proud chuckle escapes his lips. Even doing well to convince himself of her victory, Chris can’t help but wonder how Kira is reacting to his absence.

_Is she freaking out? Does she think I’m dead?_

Chris leans on a crate and sighs.

_Does she care?_

Having darkened his mood, Chris’ pace at closing crates slows.

* * *

The Defiant’s crew hastily prepares to leave the station. Nog sits at his new post at tactical and Matthews, an ensign assigned to Deep Space Nine after the war, sits at the helm.

Kira fidgets in the captain’s chair, chewing her lip as she replays events from the cargo bay in her mind.

_I could’ve been faster. I should’ve heard the doors open. If Chris hadn’t shoved me…_

Ezri steps onto the bridge, interrupting Kira’s thoughts. Ezri goes out of her way to give Kira’s shoulder a squeeze. Kira nods in appreciation of the silent gesture as Ezri continues to her post at communications.

“All right, ensign…” Kira trails off as she doesn’t know the man’s name.

“Matthews, sir.”

Kira has been so preoccupied by her constant vigilance, thorough investigation, and distracting thoughts of Odo over the past few months that she hasn’t taken the time to familiarize herself with any of the new Federation assignees to the station. She’d normally feel guilty about not knowing this crewman’s name, or the names of other fresh faces around her, but she doesn’t have time to worry about some Starfleet officer’s feelings right now.

_Ezri can play counselor and hold his hand if he needs it._

“Whatever,” Kira waves her hand dismissively. “Take us out.”

Matthews blinks at Kira’s blatant snub and turns back to the helm controls. He pauses before pulling the Defiant away from the station. “Course, sir?”

“Dax?” Kira asks as she spins her chair to face the lieutenant. “Has Ops confirmed the cruiser’s heading?”

Ezri shrugs. “Not exactly—given the system failures. But they _did_ confirm that the wormhole opened after the ship cloaked.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kira nods. “Helm, get us through the wormhole.”

“Aye, sir,” Matthews nods. The Defiant disengages docking clamps and turns towards the wormhole.

“Before we go through,” Ezri says. “I should mention that Ops doesn’t have an ETA on restoring long-range communications. Since the new wormhole relay is little more than an extension of the station’s comm system, we’ll be on our own.”

“We’re on our own anyway,” Kira shrugs as the wormhole opens before them. “Chris and those books are heading for Dominion space—there’s no time to wait for help. Does Ops have anything else to share before we lose contact?”

After a pause from the Lieutenant, Kira turns to see Ezri biting her lip and furrowing her brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“While the ship was decloaked,” Ezri hesitates, “they say short-range scanners only picked up thirty life signs.”

“ _Thirty_?” Kira blinks. “A Keldon-class cruiser should have _hundreds_.”

Ezri reluctantly voices a troubling deduction, “Would _you_ send a full crew on a suicide mission?”

Kira is stunned. She hadn’t considered the possibility. A single ship, cloaked or not, has no chance of returning home if they truly plan to attack the heart of the Dominion Empire.

Kira’s face darkens with dread as the Defiant enters the wormhole, which _she_ knows as the Celestial Temple—the home of her gods. The man the Prophets put in her care just passed through on a hostile ship with no intention of returning. Now they’re witness to her frantic pursuit.

Kira feels a sudden desire to crawl under the captain’s chair and hide. She looks up and mutters under her breath. “I’m sorry, Emissary; I let you down.”

* * *

On the other side of the wormhole, the Defiant’s crew waits for orders. There was no briefing for this mission; Kira is improvising.

“We’re in the Gamma Quadrant, sir,” Mathews states the obvious. “New heading?”

Kira doesn’t respond.

Mathews, Ezri, and others turn to see Kira’s troubled stare.

“Kira?” Ezri asks. “You know… with only thirty of them on board, they may not have seen Chris beam on with all that cargo—especially since you said the transport was triggered from the station.”

“That’s not what I was thinking about, but thanks,” Kira nods as wishful thinking makes the idea sound more plausible. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“He’ll be OK. But…what _were_ you thinking about?”

Kira returns a weak smile before looking back to the viewscreen. The fact isn’t lost on her that this is the first time she’s been in the Gamma quadrant since saying goodbye to Odo, and that the man she loves more than anything is ahead of them. His life is in danger, as is the life of a man the Prophets asked her to protect. Both men are counting on her to save them whether they realize it or not, and to have any chance of saving either… she’s got to find that ship.

“I’m positive they’re headed to the Founder’s new homeworld,” Kira says. “And if they think one ship can do what an entire fleet couldn’t, we’ve got to stop them before they can try. Is there any way to penetrate their cloak?”

“When this class of ship approached the station before,” Ezri offers, “we detected a concentration of tetryon particles. But… that was from the entire fleet—right on top of the station. This is _one_ ship that’s several light years ahead of us. The Defiant’s sensors just aren’t sensitive enough.”

“But Dominion scanners can penetrate a cloak, correct?” Kira asks as she leans forward.

Nog chimes in from tactical. “Their technology can detect the warp signature of a cloaked ship and, once in close range, they use an anti-proton beam to pinpoint location.”

Ezri shakes her head. “When the Romulans and Cardassians sent their fleet last time, they had specially-modified cloaks and were able to remain undetected. We should assume this ship is similarly equipped.”

Kira sighs. “Dammit.”

“But,” Ezri continues, “according to the reports that Odo and Garak submitted from the attempt, they had to limit their speed to warp six. If the ship we’re after has the same limitation, we’ll have no trouble catching them.”

“But that won’t matter if we can’t _detect_ them,” Kira says. She squints at Ezri. “I thought we were cut off from the station; how are you accessing these reports?”

“I… well Jadzia… was there when we saw this type of ship four years ago. I transferred everything I could to the Defiant.”

Kira smiles. “Good work. I’ll take all the help we can get.”

Nog turns from his station. “Sir, you said the ‘new’ Founder homeworld. Do the Cardassians know where it is?”

“At this point,” Kira says, “we have to assume they do.”

“Shouldn’t we try and beat them to it?” Nog asks. “We wouldn’t just be sitting here and we could work on solving the detection problem on the way.”

“I’d _rather_ find a way to intercept them,” Kira says. “But you’re right; we can’t just sit here.”

Kira starts tapping on her console. “Helm, set a course for these coordinates—warp eight.”

Matthews spins around in his chair. “Colonel, how do _you_ know the coordinates?”

Kira tilts her head and blinks. “You seriously think I’d forget my boyfriend’s address?”

Matthews raises his eyebrows and turns back to the helm.

Kira shakes her head. “Engage.”

Watching the stars streak past them, Kira can’t help but think about the two men they’re trying to save. While Odo has no idea what’s going on, Chris is all too aware—and likely scared to death.

_Hang in there, Chris. We’ll find you._

* * *

Chris closes the last open crate in the cargo bay, hopefully removing all evidence of his presence on the ship.  In addition to a glum attitude about Kira’s feelings about him, he’s been slowed by frequent stops to duck and listen after every creak, pop, and whir from the ship around him. It amazes him that no one has come to check on this cargo given the significance of its believed purpose. He’s convinced it’s only a matter of time before someone does.

_I need a better place to hide._

On the off-chance it will offer any help, Chris pulls his map PADD from under his waistband. He’s greeted with a simple message: “Invalid Location.” He huffs and shoves the device back into the small of his back.

_Damn. I guess I’m exploring blind._

There are four doors in the cargo bay, one roughly in each corner of the cavernous room. None of them stand out as special or unique, so Chris simply heads to the closest one. He draws his phaser as he approaches it.

Chris hesitates. His heartrate becomes frantic. His hands shake.

_You’re a dead man if you stay in this room, Chris. You have to do this._

Chris takes a deep breath and readies his weapon. He inches forward, waiting for the unseen sensor to detect his presence and open the door. As soon as it does, Chris freezes. He quickly glances back and forth between each side of the opening. Despite making little sound, anyone nearby would surely see or hear the door open. After no one calls out or jumps around the corner, he cautiously peers into the hallway beyond.

Looking both ways, Chris finds no one.

_Where the hell’s the crew?_

The hallway to Chris’ right ends at a nearby door. He guesses the door is a turbolift by the look of it. He can’t read the Cardassian symbols to confirm his suspicion, but he’s most certainly not ready to open another mystery door just yet. The long hallway to his left has occasional bulkheads that, while not large enough to hide behind, could provide at least _some_ cover if anyone appeared beyond. Given a choice between the hallway’s minimal cover and being a proverbial fish in a turbolift barrel, Chris opts for the hallway.

_At least out here I can run._

Chris makes his way down the hall, cautiously moving from bulkhead to bulkhead. In addition to occasional side passages and closed doors, he encounters open doorways with alien equipment beyond. Panels and consoles contain numerous displays and controls, but all of them stand unattended. There are a lot of nooks and crannies in these rooms in which Chris could hide, but he has no idea how dangerous the equipment is or how long these rooms will remain vacant.

_Someone’s gotta check this stuff eventually, right?_

Moving further along the hallway, Chris begins to feel uncomfortably exposed now that there’s a long expanse of doors and side passages both ahead and behind. He decides to start making turns at hallway intersections to maintain a balance between his newfound claustrophobia and agoraphobia. Tight spaces and open spaces don’t normally frighten him, but he doesn’t normally have to worry about Cardassians with disruptors wandering about.

_At least, I assume they’re Cardassians. I haven’t seen or heard anyone!_

After a few turns, the décor around Chris changes. Where the walls had been bare and light fixtures purely utilitarian, the new section has subtle color variations and light fixtures that could almost be considered decorative. Chris assumes he’s passed from an engineering section to what might be crew quarters.

_And still no sign of anyone._

Getting weary of the repeated fright of turning blind corners, Chris pauses in front of a random door and debates if should dare open it. Along with the other fears he’s picked up on this ship, he can now add entamaphobia because the thought of opening this door scares the shit out of him.

Chris takes a few deep breaths as he stares at the door.

_Wandering the halls is no way to hide. I hope Nerys finds me soon._

Overcoming anxiety doesn’t leave much room for cautious thought. Chris smacks the door button and points his phaser forward. The door slides open. Darkness lies beyond.

A trick of the brain makes Chris feel suddenly vulnerable in the light-filled hallway now that he’s presented with a dark room to hide in. He steps inside quickly and slides along the wall to his left until the door closes again.

Chris’ breathing is panicked as he crouches in the pitch-black room. He sweeps his phaser back and forth as he strains to hear over his quick, shallow breaths.

“Computer, lights,” Chris commands.

The computer responds, turning all the room lights on at once. Chris pops up to a standing position, once again swinging his weapon back and forth as he scans the room.

Chris finds no one. He lets his arms flop to his sides and his head droop in relief. Catching his breath, he surveys the room more closely. The quarters are not unlike those on Deep Space Nine, only smaller and much more Spartan. The sight of a replicator prompts a grumble from Chris’ stomach.

_Oh yeah… the only thing I’ve had since my ‘distraction’ in the infirmary was a cup of coffee. I’m starving!_

The replicator is covered with Cardassian symbols.

“Damn.”

Next to the replicator is an open doorway. Chris realizes he’s yet to explore every corner of these quarters. His eyes widen as he raises his phaser and bursts through the door. Finding an empty bed, he rushes to the last unexplored door and presses the button to open it. He thrusts his phaser around the corner and aims at the crazy space-toilet.

The quarters are truly empty.

Chris backs away from the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed. His heart continues to pound. He takes a few deep breaths, but it doesn’t help to calm him after the constant stress and countless moments of panic since the traitor appeared in the cargo bay on Deep Space Nine. He allows himself to fall back on the bed and close his eyes.

_What a nightmare!_

A nightmare… Chris remembers the last nightmare he had. After dreaming of a horrendous impact to the driver-side door of his car, he’d woken to find Kira trying to calm him after his start.

_Nerys…_

Chris’ breathing starts to slow as he recalls the encounter where he first got lost in her eyes.

_The door…_

Chris’ eyes pop open.

_Nerys had to bypass my door. How the hell did I get in here?_

Chris blinks and scans the ceiling as he sifts through his memories of the last two days.

_The security guard that showed me my quarters didn’t do anything special to open the door—I watched him closely. Maybe the quarters weren’t ‘mine’ yet. Are these quarters unassigned? Is that it? How did I get so lucky?_

Chris’ brow wrinkles as he tries to sort out the crazy clues in his mind.

_No one in the cargo bay. No one in the halls. No one in the quarters?_

“What the hell is going on?”

A growling sound from Chris’ stomach distracts him.

_Food… Maybe something will make sense after I get some food._

Chris gets up from the bed and walks to the main room. He pauses to lean against the doorframe after feeling lightheaded.

_I hope that thing has a cheeseburger or pizza._

Staring at the Cardassian symbols on the replicator, Chris sighs heavily. He tries to recall any Cardassian foods from the ‘show.’

_The only thing I can remember is Kanar, and that’s the_ last _thing I need right now._

Chris decides to try familiar choices. “Orange Juice,” he commands.

The machine doesn’t respond.

“Bagel, pizza, cheeseburger, steak, fried chicken, mashed potatoes!”

The replicator makes no attempt to respond to any of Chris’ rapid-fire requests.

Chris sighs again and starts randomly pressing buttons. After several presses, the machine comes to life and a large egg in a decorative cup appears.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Chris says as he carefully takes the egg and sets it on a nearby end table.

_I don’t even_ want _to know what’s in that._

After a few more random presses on the replicator controls, a bowl appears. Its contents seem to be a type of stew, but the smell is nothing like any Chris has ever encountered.

“I might need that Kanar.”

Responding to Chris’ off-hand comment, the replicator creates a glass of the thick, dark liquid beside the bowl of soup.

“Ugh. Water?”

A second glass, this time containing what appears to be water, materializes in the replicator. Chris sighs. He moves his ‘meal’ to the small dining table in the room. He sits in a chair facing the door and sets his phaser within easy reach in case he needs to welcome an unexpected guest.

The stew is unpleasant, but hunger persuades Chris to stomach two thirds of the bowl’s contents before his gut protests. Leaving the Kanar untouched, he washes the taste down as much as he can with water.

Chris almost chokes when a loud voice comes over the comm system. “Gudal, report to the bridge. Gudal, report to the bridge.”

Chris drops the glass of water and grabs his phaser from the table. He swings the phaser around the room, not knowing where to aim.

_Are these Gudal’s quarters? Where the hell is he?_

Chris is filled with renewed panic. He holsters his phaser, quickly picks up the items from his meal—including the untouched egg-thing—and carries them into the bedroom. He growls as he passes the replicator he could use to make the items disappear if only he could read Cardassian. He stashes the evidence of his meal in a drawer then crouches in a corner of the room—phaser drawn.

“Computer, lights.”

Chris plunges himself into darkness and waits.

_That drawer was empty—and there were only three of them. Either Gudal travels light, or these aren’t his quarters._

Thinking back to the announcement over the comms, Chris remembers something odd about it, as if there’d been an echo.

_Did the sound come from the hallway too? Are they using a PA system? Why not call Gudal on his combadge?_

Chris sits in darkness—scared and confused.

After a few minutes, Chris’ eyes adjust to the faint light sources in the bedroom. One is a small on the wall across from him. He hadn’t paid much attention before, but these quarters have windows. The shades are closed

_Maybe that’ll open them._

Chris holsters his phaser and cautiously approaches the faint dot of light. He presses the button and the shades slide open. What he sees takes his breath away. Rainbow streaks of light pass before a field of stars.

_Holy shit! So this is what travelling at warp speed looks like._

Chris presses his forehead against the glass to see if he can get a glimpse of the ship he’s trapped within.

“Shit.”

Instead of a hull, which he was hoping would give him a sense of the vessel’s size, Chris sees absolutely nothing.

_Cardassian ships have that funky shape to them. I should see_ something _. This thing is cloaked!_

Chris’ heart sinks.

_If the Defiant_ is _coming, they won’t be able to find me. And if_ they _don’t find me, someone on this ship eventually will._

Chris backs up to the bed and slumps on the edge. Even considering his divorce, Chris has never felt so helpless and alone.

_I’m totally screwed._

Chris swallows hard and blinks moist eyes at the stars.

_I’ll never see her again._

A soft cry of distress escapes Chris’ throat as he tries to breathe. He rubs his eyes to clear the blurred stars. Thoughts fumble through his mind.

_She won’t miss me; I’m a ‘complication’. She’s only worried about Odo. She’ll miss_ him _for sure… when these guys do whatever it is they plan to do—and what’s to stop them? She’ll be devastated._

Chris sniffles and glances at the phaser on his waist.

_If I don’t stop them she’ll hate me—even when I’m dead. I’m a dead man anyway. I’ve gotta try._

Chris blinks, surprised at the turn his thoughts have taken. Could he really muster the courage to act, if only for a chance for posthumous gratitude?

_Would she even know I tried?_

Chris recalls what Kira and the other’s explained while working in the security office. If a plot against the Founders succeeds, it could throw the Gamma and Alpha quadrants back into chaos and war.

_Odo’s not the only one at risk._

Located at their nexus, Deep Space Nine and its crew, including Kira, would be at the center of yet another dangerous conflict.

_She could be killed._

Wiping his eyes and closing the shades to the windows, Chris decides to act.

“Computer, lights.”

Chris draws his phaser and heads to the door.


	18. Hide and Seek

**Chapter Eighteen: Hide and Seek**

Chris stands in the hallway of the cloaked Cardassian cruiser. A door to relative safety closes behind him.

_What the hell am I doing?_

Chris remains still as he reviews the thought process that led to standing exposed in the hallway.

_There’s no question I’m screwed. My chances of getting off this ship alive are crap no matter what I do. It’s just a matter of time. But… if I can save her again… maybe I’ll have meant something._

“Jesus,” Chris sighs. “She’s right; I’m pathetic.”

_She’ll never know; I’ll be dead. But if I don’t try something… she could die too._

Shaking his head, Chris tries to focus. He needs to find a way to either stop the ship or destroy its cargo. After only a brief debate with his thoughts, he figures the cargo is his safest bet.

_But shit, I have no idea how to get back there._

Motivated purely by thoughts of Kira, Chris slowly makes his way through the halls of the ship. He looks for anything familiar to guide him back to the cargo bay. As he nervously sneaks around, he tries to think of how he can throw a wrench in the Cardassians’ plan.

_It would help if I_ knew _their plan…_

If Chris were a Starfleet engineer, he’d skip the cargo bay and sabotage the cloaking device.

_My luck in these halls surely wouldn’t hold out long enough to find it—not that I’d have any idea how to break it._

Glancing at his phaser, Chris wonders if it’s possible to destroy the cargo with it.

_I think the crew would be alerted if I tried, and with how many crates there are… I’d barely make a dent before they came for me._

He considers setting the cargo on fire.

_I imagine a fire would alert the crew as well. And surely there’s a fire-suppression system. Short of the phaser, I don’t even know how I’d start one._

A more drastic course of action comes to mind.

_I could tie myself to a railing and open the cargo bay doors. Though with my luck the vacuum would leave the crates behind and I’d just space myself—I suck at knots._

Before making any meaningful progress on formulating a plan of action, or finding the cargo bay, Chris freezes in the corridor.

_Voices!_

Chris has been nearing a side passage, so there’s a 50/50 chance that the approaching voices will turn away from him. Since the bulkheads aren’t large enough to hide behind fully, he recklessly opens a nearby door. Luckily, the room beyond is dark like the quarters he abandoned earlier.

Chris hesitates as he stares into the room.

_I could just hide. I_ should _just hide…_

Terrified, Chris looks to the intersection as the voices grow louder.

_…but I need to find out what’s going on. She’s counting on me._

Chris takes a deep breath and loiters in the opening.

_I’ll just… duck inside if I have to._

In the back of his mind, Chris knows the Cardassians would spot the closing door if they turn his way. He convinces himself otherwise.

_They’re too busy talking; they’re not paying attention. Plus, I have this._

Chris looks at the phaser that’s shaking in his hand. He can hear two distinct voices, but there’s no way to be sure they account for everyone approaching. The element of surprise might allow him to use the phaser to stun unsuspecting Cardassians, but even one would be pushing it.

_My aim sucks._

Chris grits his teeth and plants his feet more confidently in the doorway.

_It doesn’t matter. I have to do this._

Chris determines that both approaching voices are male. One is a soft tenor compared to the other’s harsh baritone. He makes up names to keep them straight.

_I’ll call the higher voice Kim; the other one’s Carl._

The first words Chris can make out clearly come from Kim.

“Yamok sauce? To be honest… I’ve always hated it.”

“One might question your Cardassian heritage to hear you say that.”

Both voices chuckle softly. Chris rolls his eyes despite high anxiety as the two men carry on with culinary small-talk. Before long, Kim changes the subject to something more interesting.

“Fascinating… I’ll have to try that before our mission is complete. Speaking of which, I was simply instructed to assist you. What are we doing?”

“Preparing our payload,” Carl answers shortly. “I’ll direct you further once we reach the cargo hold.”

Kim sighs. “I don’t like being kept in the dark. This mission is…”

“Our mission is _paramount_ , and you know the rules.”

“I know,” Kim replies, “but the rules are getting tiresome.”

“The nature of the mission cannot be…”

“I know, I know,” Kim interrupts, “’cannot be compromised if the details of the mission are unknown.’ I was in the briefing.”

Chris’ heart skips a beat as there is a pause in the conversation and the footfalls stop. He is frozen in his pose: feet planted and phaser pointed at the intersection.

_Did I make a sound?_

Carl sounds annoyed. “Of course you were in the briefing; we were _all_ in the briefing. But what the representative of the Order didn’t say during his grand gesturing is that a similar attempt was made before.”

Kim sounds surprised. “Why didn’t he tell us? We could’ve learned from the failure!”

“The Order _did_ learn. That’s exactly why _we_ are only given tasks and information as needed.”

“I don’t understand.”

The footfalls begin again as Carl responds. “The last mission failed because a changeling infiltrated the Tal Shiar.”

“What do the Romulans have to do with anything?”

Chris breathes a sigh of relief as the voices turn down the hall away from him. Due to the bulkhead, he only catches a brief glimpse of a shoulder as they round the corner.

_I think that was a Cardassian uniform._

“How do you think we came to possess a cloaking device?” Carl replies. “The last mission was a joint effort between the Tal Shiar and the Obsidian Order. The Order sent several ships similar to this one. All of them, along with a matching number of Warbirds, were destroyed because the Changelings knew we were coming. While preparing for that mission, the Obsidian Order was able to ‘acquire’ an additional cloaking device."

Listening to the pair speak, Chris realizes that following these men will lead him back to the cargo bay _and_ give him vital information about what’s going on. He cautiously trails them once he feels there’s no chance they’ll hear the door slide closed.

Despite obvious conversational cues and a brief glimpse, seeing the men confirms their origin.

_They’re Cardassians all right._

“It makes _sense_ now!” Kim exclaims. “Removing the communication systems, the shuttles— _all_ of it. I thought it was to keep us from changing our minds about the mission, but they were worried a changeling might get on board.”

“Worried?” Carl chuckles. “They _assumed_ it. As unlikely an event that may be, there’s no way a changeling could leave or warn its people.”

Though his hopes were already glum, hearing the claim that not even a Founder could escape this ship darkens Chris’ spirits.

“Most brilliant,” Kim answers with pride.

“The crews of many ships paid for that brilliance with their lives,” Carl says. “Still… we must be vigilant if we wish to succeed.”

“Of course.”

As Chris follows the two men, he realizes a flaw in his present course of action. These men are headed to the cargo bay, but he can’t follow them through a door without being seen, and he can’t enter the room afterwards without alerting them to his presence.

_Shit._

Chris remembers seeing four doors in the cargo bay. He needs to try and enter one of the other doors before the Cardassians get there.

_That long hallway… Two of the cargo bay doors opened to it. There’s got to be another one on the other side of the ship. Once we get close, I need to haul ass and find it!_

It isn’t long before Chris peeks around a corner behind the pair to find the long stretch to the cargo bay. He recognizes the door at the far end. Looking around the intersection, he realizes that the hall straight ahead should lead to the parallel stretch on the other side of the ship.

After carefully crossing the hall, Chris takes a gamble and starts to run. It’s a huge risk to move so swiftly through halls that could hold more Cardassians, but he desperately needs to be in the cargo bay before Kim and Carl reach it.

Reaching the next intersection, Chris is happy to find that he has, in fact, found the mirror of the hallway Kim and Carl are travelling. He’s also relieved to find no Cardassians. He sprints to the door at the end of the hall and presses the button. Stepping inside, he is greeted by nothing but the sight of crates and hum of the ship.

_Hallelujah!_

As it was when he left it, the cargo bay is full of waist-high crates and little else. Chris moves into the sea of containers and ducks when he sees a door on the far wall slide open. He is grateful that, despite his recent sprint, it takes only a few moments to get his breathing under control.

_Thank you, Prophets!_

Chris recognizes Kim and Carl’s voices as they enter the room.

“I’ll start here,” Carl says. “You start on that end. Our task for now is simply to open the crates. We’re to wait for further instructions.”

“Understood,” Kim replies.

Chris realizes that he’s near one of two possible corners that Kim may be walking towards. The echo of  footsteps in the cavernous room instills panic.

_I wish I could’ve seen where Carl pointed._

Chris takes a deep breath and slowly crawls to the center of the room. He has no choice but to use his ears to keep tabs on the Cardassians.

_As they work their way in, I’ll skirt around to the open crates. Maybe I’ll be…_

The sound of a lid hitting the floor startles Chris. Thankfully, he remains quiet. He lets out a slow breath as his heart pounds.

_Jesus._

“Books?” Kim says, bewildered. “Bajoran books? Were our plans discovered? Is this mockery?”

“Impossible,” Carl snaps. “This cargo was checked against stored sensor patterns. I can’t say _why_ this was beamed to us from Deep Space Nine, but I can assure you this is _exactly_ what we’re supposed to have.”

“But…”

“But _nothing_! You’ve witnessed the care the Order has taken to ensure the success of this mission. They would _not_ have let something as critical as our payload be so easily compromised.”

“I…” Kim hesitates, “I understand.”

“Good,” Carl sounds satisfied. “As you know, we were all chosen randomly by the Order. But each of us had motive to submit our names. I’ve become curious of yours. You seem to know little about the Order, _or_ Cardassia’s past with the Dominion.”

“On the contrary,” Kim responds defiantly, “I’m _very_ familiar with our past with the Dominion. At least the part where my home and family were annihilated by Jem’Hadar bombardment. Why’d you submit _your_ name?”

“Vengeance for countless _millions_ of our people killed by the Dominion, like your family—and for what they’ve done to our world. You’ve seen the cities. I had no family of my own for them to take. My condolences for yours.”

The Cardassians fall silent and resume opening crates. Chris slowly shifts his position to circumnavigate their activity. He feels relief when he encounters opened crates.

_Just a few more rows and I should be safe._

Chris is frustrated that the Cardassians offer no new intelligence relating to the cargo. It makes the risk of being in this room with them seem all the more foolish. Save for Deep Space Nine’s cargo bay, where a man was trying to kill Kira and himself, he’s never been in so much danger in his life. The only thing he’s learned by leaving the relative safety of some vacant quarters is that he’s more securely trapped on this ship than he knew.

_Not like I had a chance in hell of getting off in the first place._

All Chris can do is stay out of sight until the Cardassians leave, but moving among the opened crates proves more difficult than he anticipated. Lids are scattered about the floor and randomly leaning against crates. Moving anything could be a deadly mistake. Chris’ heart pounds frantically as he inches through the minefield.

“Why books?” Kim asks. “And why so many?”

Chris is relieved that Kim sounds a good distance from him—at least three rows away.

Carl sounds annoyed. “I’ve already said that I don’t know.”

“I’ve only seen three types,” Kim comments.

“I’ve just seen two.”

“What does it mean?”

Suddenly, a loud crash erupts behind Chris. His racing heart skip a beat. His holster caught one of the more precariously-leaning lids and sent it tumbling to the floor.

_Shit! I am so dead!_

The Cardassians respond immediately.

“Movement! Over there!”

“Check it out! I’m right behind you!”

The excited voices of the Cardassians are harder for Chris to distinguish—not that it matters at this point. He scurries on all fours to try and put as much distance between himself and the fallen lid as possible. He hopes the Cardassians will assume the lid fell on its own due to some shudder of the ship.

Chris is not so fortunate.

“There! I see movement!”

_Dammit!_

Chris finds himself in everyone’s worst nightmare. He’s trying to move as fast as he can, but crawling along the floor is no match for a Cardassian on foot.

Hearing footfalls close in, Chris realizes he’s in a very poor position to defend himself. Flipping onto his butt, he frantically reaches for his phaser. He barely gets his hand to the holster before a Cardassian is right in front of him, weapon drawn.

“Don’t move!” Kim yells at Chris.

“What have you got?!” Carl calls out as he jogs to Kim’s position.

“A human. He must’ve snuck on with the cargo.”

“There’s no other explanation,” Carl agrees, closing in behind Kim.

Chris can do nothing but stare at the emitter of Kim’s disruptor. More than anything, he feels… mad. He’s always thought TV shows were unrealistic when someone facing the barrel of a gun stood defiant instead of sobbing like a child. Now he understands that some of those doomed, fictional souls were just too angry to be scared.

Chris feels very angry at this very moment. He’s angry about letting Kira down, angry about failing to foil the Cardassian plot, angry for the stupid mistakes he’s made on this ship, angry that the last impression Kira Nerys will have of him is of an adolescent fool. Chris’s countenance twists as frustrating thoughts pile on.

“What do you know of our mission?!” Kim demands of Chris. “Who else knows?!”

Chris shifts his focus from the emitter of Kim’s disruptor to the Cardassian’s eyes; his words are tainted with rage. “I know what these books are. I know where you’re taking them. Kira and the Federation know all about it! She’s gonna blow this ship to _Hell_!”

Kim is shocked as he calls out to Carl. “The mission’s been compromised!”

Carl’s reply is brief and smug: “I know.”

As confusion overtakes Kim’s expression, Chris witnesses the Cardassian’s body disintegrate from within. After Kim’s body vaporizes, Chris looks upon the fading glow of the emitter on Carl’s disruptor—now aimed directly at his chest.


	19. The Waiting Game

**Chapter Nineteen: The Waiting Game**

On the bridge of the Defiant, Kira paces in front of the captain’s chair. Having developed no better plan, the crew is racing to the Founder homeworld. Though capable of greater speeds, the Defiant is travelling at warp eight. As she paces, Kira steals glances at the streaks of light on the main display.

_We’re no good to either of them if we push the ship too hard. We don’t have the people we did during the war. Whoever we brought along, I can’t assume they could make emergency repairs._

The cloaked Cardassian ship has a head start but, assuming it’s travelling at warp six to avoid detection by the Dominion’s sensitive sensor technology, the Defiant will easily reach the Founder homeworld first.

_Which doesn’t mean a damn thing if we can’t find them._

Kira left Julian behind to study samples of the strange books found in the cargo bay, but they won’t be able to receive a report from him until the station’s long-range communications are restored.

To pass the time, Ezri lectured the bridge crew on how repairs to Deep Space Nine’s communications would be moot if it weren’t for the new wormhole relay. The Dominion destroyed the original communication relay when they poured into the Alpha Quadrant two years ago and ‘allied’ themselves with Cardassia.

“The Cardassians realized _that_ mistake quickly enough,” Ezri had said during her impromptu history lesson.

Given the instability of the Gamma Quadrant and vulnerability of the Alpha Quadrant after the war, replacing the relay and associated listening posts was a high priority for the Federation.

Kira had largely ignored the conversation. She doesn’t care about communications details; she wants answers.

_Are we truly dealing with a biological weapon targeting the Founders? Can we neutralize it? Will we find that ship in time?  Is Chris alive?_

Kira’s pacing stops. She leans against a console beside the captain’s chair and closes her eyes.

_The Prophets delivered him to Deep Space Nine; surely they’re watching out for him. Ezri’s right: he’s hiding. He’ll be fine. We’ll get him back._

Kira’s thoughts are blatant denial and a crude attempt to forget that the Prophets explicitly placed Chris in _her_ care. In any event, she doesn’t want to consider the possible outcomes of Chris being in custody. Unfortunately, an idle mind tends to wander.

_If they find him and he tries to fight, they’ll kill him for sure._

Kira cringes and grips the console.

_There’s only thirty of them. It’s a big ship. Maybe he’ll stay hidden._

Kira’s knuckles return to their natural tone, but the marginally positive thought doesn’t help as much as she hoped. She knows far too well what the Cardassians are capable of.

_They’ll assume he’s a spy. If they have him already, they’ll…_

Kira smacks the console. She’s frustrated by the darkness of her thoughts and the hopelessness of the situation. Several faces look up from their stations. Kira locks eyes with Nog.

“Any luck, lieutenant?”

Nog hesitates. “N-no, sir. I’ve been searching for an ion trail and… testing an idea I have using broad-dispersion proton sweeps. I can…”

Kira shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best. Keep it up.” She turns to Ezri. “Dax, anything on comms?”

“I haven’t picked up anything that could be from the cruiser. I’ve heard very little really, and no Dominion transmissions as far as I can tell. They must be staying closer to their borders since the war.”

“They’re out there,” Kira says as she looks to the main display. “They got their nose bloodied during the war, so they may be more subtle about their excursions for a while. They know we’re here; they’re just trying to decide what to do about it.”

“Should we cloak, sir?” Nog asks.

“If what you said about their sensors is correct, cloaking at this speed wouldn’t matter. Besides, I have no intention of sneaking into Dominion space.”

“We’re planning to knock first?” Ezri raises her eyebrows.

“Knock?” Kira glares at the viewscreen. “We’re gonna kick the damn door down.”

* * *

As the hours pass, Kira resumes her pacing in fits. Ezri finds it difficult to watch her friend fume about the bridge, no doubt blaming herself for Chris’ abduction. Ezri is relieved when her communication panel lights up at last.

“Kira,” Ezri reports excitedly. “I’m getting a transmission from Deep Space Nine.”

“About time,” Kira says as she takes her seat. “On screen.”

The large bridge monitor shows Julian in his lab.

Kira leans forward in her chair. “I was starting to wonder if we were ever going to hear from you, doctor.”

“I was wondering the same,” Julian raises his eyebrows. “It seems our saboteurs were quite thorough. Not only did they disable communications on the station, but they caused extensive damage to the wormhole relay as well.”

“Then I’m surprised we’re hearing from you at all.”

“You can thank Admiral Ross for that. As you know, he didn’t exactly book passage to Deep Space Nine on a transport.” A grin on Julian’s face vanishes in response to the unamused look on Kira’s. “Right… the admiral ordered the Venture through the wormhole to make repairs.”

“Why didn’t anyone give us an update? The Venture could’ve sent us a message.”

“I hadn’t completed my research,” Julian states matter-of-factly, “and the admiral seems to know you well enough not to bother you without good news. It’s not ‘good news’ actually, but…”

“Julian,” Kira snaps, “just tell me you have some answers.”

“Answers, yes,” Julian rubs his shoulder nervously, “but I don’t think you’re going to like them.”

Kira’s patience is wearing thin. “Julian...”

“Of course…” Julian clears his throat. “The books we discovered _do_ contain the components of a biological weapon. I’ve unearthed some of its key properties. As we suspected, it’s been custom-tailored to target the Founders. Much like the morphogenic virus that Section 31 devised, this compound targets their morphogenic matrix. This morphogenic poison, for lack of a better term, cannot replicate itself as the virus did. This would explain the large quantities of material we encountered. However, I believe this poison will act more quickly than the virus. I don’t believe they want the Founders to have time to receive a cure like they did before.”

“The cure they got from Odo…” Kira says, recalling the day she had to say goodbye. “How fast would you estimate, doctor?”

“As with the virus, the more a Founder changes form, the more they accelerate the effects. Founders within the Great Link may not see the effects as quickly as any leaving it. But where the virus’ effects would be seen in a matter of weeks or months, this poison could prove fatal within days, hours… perhaps minutes. I won’t know more without further study.”

“You’re right, doctor; I _don’t_ like these answers.” Kira furrows her brow. “This ‘poison’ is being delivered as three components. Why? How are they mixed? How can we neutralize it?”

“Combining any two components results in a substance that detailed scans would register as hazardous, so they fragmented it to avoid detection. It seems contact is enough for these compounds to combine; they don’t require a catalyst. It’s quite brilliant really…” Julian reacts to Kira’s glare and qualifies his statement, “…in a purely _scientific_ sense. Neutralizing the bioweapon may prove problematic. I’ve yet to find an ‘antidote’, but I’m still working on options.”

“Make sure you do,” Kira says. “We haven’t had any luck finding the ship.”

“Colonel, there’s something else I find troubling. The compound and its components are resistant to extreme temperatures by design, but the medium they’ve been deposited on has a low ignition temperature—lower than typical paper.”

Kira wrinkles her forehead. “Why is that so troubling?”

“I ran an experiment,” Julian says with a foreboding tone. “I raised the temperature of a sealed container until samples from each book ignited. When the fire consumed everything combustible, the residue in the container consisted primarily of the combined biological agent.”

Kira’s eyes widen as she understands the doctor’s point.

Matthews, the ensign helmsman, voices confusion. “What does that mean, sir?”

Kira replies with unease. “It means all they have to do is open the crates and reach the atmosphere.”

Julian nods. “Either through destruction by the Jem’Hadar or burning up on entry, the ship’s hull will act like the vessel from my experiment—mixing the components with fire. The compound would disperse and settle on the Great Link.”

Kira’s face is pale. “It _is_ a suicide mission.” She closes her eyes and mumbles. “Prophets, forgive me.” She looks back to the monitor with determination. “We can’t let them reach the planet. We have to find that ship and destroy it.”

Kira catches glances from around the bridge after her statement. Chris is still on that ship; she hasn’t forgotten.

Julian blinks. “But Chris… Surely you wouldn’t…”

“Doctor, we’ll do everything we can to get him out, but if I have to choose between Chris and every Founder in the Great Link…”

“Including Odo,” Ezri interjects.

“ _Especially_ Odo,” Kira nods. “We are _not_ letting that ship reach its target. Am I clear.”

“Yes, sir,” Julian nods. He steals a quick glance at Ezri. “I have nothing more, but I’ll keep you apprised.”

The viewscreen reverts to a sea of streaking stars. Silence permeates the bridge.

Ezri clears her throat. “Kira, we’re still a good distance from Dominion space and… it’s been quite a day. I suggest you get some rest.”

“Do you _honestly_ think I could sleep right now?”

“ _Rest_ , Kira. Your office was bombed, we lost a good man, Chris was abducted, and you’re commanding a ship that’s heading to Dominion space. Try to get some rest. Don’t make me relieve you.”

Kira raises a pointed finger to prepare for an argument. Her mouth opens to form the first word, but she catches weary looks from around the bridge. She also knows that as ship’s counselor, Ezri could very well follow through on her threat. Kira closes her mouth and drops her hand.

“All right,” Kira sighs. “It’s been a long day for _all_ of us. We’ll rotate out in pairs. You’re taking the first break as well, Miss Counselor.”

* * *

Having been given no choice but to leave the bridge, Kira grabs a raktajino from the mess hall’s replicator and reviews the duty roster. Their departure from Deep Space Nine was so frantic that she’s not even sure who’s on board beyond the bridge crew. Her eyes skim the roster, but nothing really registers. She decides to sneak back to the bridge for a quick status report before trying to get some real rest.

On her way to the turbolift, Kira makes a side trip to check if Ezri is in her quarters.

_If she catches me on the bridge, she might extend my ‘break.’_

Kira finds Ezri’s door open. Believing this to mean Ezri’s inside, Kira feels she can safely head to the bridge. Then she hears voices…

“I wish I were there with you,” Julian says over the comm, “but I understand that we needed that analysis—I still don’t have an antidote. It took information straight from a section 31 operative to cure the virus afflicting Odo. Given apparent Cardassian involvement, I contacted Garak.”

“Oh?” Ezri responds. “And?”

“He claims ignorance, but I know better. Given the time it must’ve taken, I highly doubt he had anything to do with the development of this compound—but I believe he _wishes_ he had. He won’t be helping.”

“We’ve only been gone a few hours; I’m sure you’ll find something despite him.” Ezri sighs heavily. “It feels like we’ve been gone for days.”

“I promise, when you get back, we’ll have another go at that new holosuite program.”

“The Beaches of Blue Horizon? I’ll _need_ it. You’ve got a date, mister. But let _me_ pack the picnic this time?”

Kira leans her back against the wall. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she can’t resist listening to the voices of people who have each other’s company. She misses sharing her day with Odo; she misses it immensely.

_He could listen to me ramble for hours._

Kira clutches her mug of raktajino tightly, pretending its warmth is that of Odo’s hand.  Ezri and Julian’s conversation fades into the background—until she hears her name.

“How is Kira holding up?” Julian asks.

“I’m not sure,” Ezri ponders. “She’s a strong woman, no question, but I can’t imagine the stress she’s experiencing right now between Odo, the bomb, Chris…”

“When this is over, we should invite her and Chris to join us for that beach trip.” There’s a pause. “You don’t think so?”

Kira hadn’t heard Ezri say anything during Julian’s pause, but she must’ve shaken her head at the monitor.

“No, I don’t think that’d be a good idea at all,” Ezri says. “Despite Odo’s absence, Kira’s devoted. You saw yourself how much of a wall she’s put up—and how devastated Chris was.”

“I know; he’s completely crazy about her. Remember how I found him in Quark’s? Apparently, that was after he’d spent time in a holosuite learning to use a phaser—or rather… trying to.”

“He what?”

“Quark said he was quite determined to learn to protect her. He even raised his voice at Vic for trying to ‘talk some sense into him’ as Quark put it.”

“That’s commendable, but… I’ll have my work cut out for me when this is over. The feelings aren’t mutual.”

“I think he’s well aware. That’s why he drank himself to the brink of unconsciousness. Surely one day she’ll realize Odo isn’t coming back— _and_ what Chris is willing to do for her. Maybe _then_ we can all go to the beach.”

“That’s not how it works, Julian. And don’t get your hopes up; Chris is alone on a ship of Cardassians. Once we _do_ find the ship, _if_ we do, the Defiant and every Dominion ship in the area will be trying to destroy it. I can tell he’s taken an interest, but…”

“He’s _crazy_ about her,” Julian interjects. “Finds her _absolutely_ stunning. Not exactly what I’d call the woman who’d pinned me down with a phaser—at least not in that sense.”

“I know you’re trying to help, but this isn’t the time for jokes. And it doesn’t matter if he’s crazy about her. It takes two and you know it. Even _if_ Odo’s never coming back _and_ she accepts that…” Ezri sighs. “I can’t tell what she feels about Chris. One minute she’s talking about him with a laugh, and the next she’s asking you if he’s a spy—or calling him immature.”

The conversation drags on, but Kira doesn’t hear it. Ezri can’t read how Kira feels about Chris because _she_ doesn’t even know. Things have been happening so fast over the last couple of days that she hasn’t had time to sort it out. There’s a sense of obligation to the Prophets, her unwavering love for Odo, and a mess of uncertainty about Chris.

_The Prophets told me to help Chris—of course I care. But he’s been so…_

Kira scoffs softly.

_Is my frustration with him just resistance to letting Odo go?_

Kira sighs.

_This is stupid. I don’t feel what Chris feels; that’s all there is to it._

The image of Chris getting beamed away fills Kira’s mind. She relives the anguish and fury that followed. She tries to rationalize the emotions wrapped up in that memory when Ezri surprises her with a light touch to her arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ezri asks softly.

After recovering from her start, Kira reads the concern on Ezri’s face. The memory she was pouring over must’ve been echoed in her expression.

“Ezri… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to listen in. Your door was...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ezri shakes her head subtly. “The quarters on the Defiant make me feel a bit… claustrophobic. I like it open.”

Kira grins to distance herself from her thoughts. “Not exactly ‘roomy,’ are they.”

The two chuckle awkwardly as Ezri gestures agreement.

“So…” Ezri motions to the open door. “Do you want to come in and chat? I’ll close it for you—strictly confidential.”

“I don’t want a counseling session,” Kira says before tilter her head slightly. “But I wouldn’t mind talking to a friend.”

Ezri smiles and nods. “Then come on in; I’ll get you a fresh Raktajino.”


	20. A Partner in Crime

**Chapter Twenty: A Partner in Crime**

Chris is beside himself. A Cardassian has literally _disintegrated_ before his eyes. There was no scream, but the sound of the process, not to mention the sight of it, was sickening. The other Cardassian, the one who pulled the trigger, now towers over him.

Chris had been overflowing with anger and frustration while facing ‘Kim’s’ weapon, but that’s been completely replaced with shock, repulsion, and terror. Chris wrestles with his scampering thoughts to try and cope with what just happened.

Having a new-found appreciation of what the weapon can do, Chris can’t pry his eyes from Carl’s disruptor. Its effect on living flesh is many times more graphic than what the Prophets shared in his false memories.

_Anyone defiant in the face of death has never actually seen it._

As Chris stares at the weapon, the hand wielding it begins to change. He blinks to refocus on the Cardassian’s face, but where ‘Carl’ once stood, a changeling now stands.

“A-a Founder,” Chris stammers in awe as relief washes over him.

The Founder marvels at the speed with which terror leaves Chris’ eyes. “You do not fear me?”

“Well…” Chris swallows, suddenly questioning his assumption of safety as the Founder’s aim hasn’t changed. “You… you shot the other guy, and… and I figured that with Odo in the Great Link…”

“You know of Odo?” The Founder cocks his head and blinks.

Chris isn’t in a state to adequately summarize how his implanted memories provide extensive knowledge of the constable, so he responds as best he can: “Indirectly.”

The Founder eyes Chris with suspicion.

“I know that’s vague,” Chris quickly adds, not wanting to annoy the being with the gun, “but the details are a bit… weird. I assume you know him?”

The Founder rolls his eyes, reducing the maliciousness of his countenance. “That term _hardly_ describes how my people relate to one another.”

“Sorry, I should’ve said ‘have you linked with him’, but what I’m really getting at is…” Chris looks up at the Founder with a concerned squint as he points between them. “We’re on the same side here, right?”

After a pause, the Founder nods and holsters his weapon. “I question any association you claim to have with Odo, but it seems we both have an interest in preventing this vessel from reaching its destination.”

Chris nods and lets out a sigh of relief as the weapon is put away. “As I understand it, if this ship reaches your people, bad things happen.”

“Namely the annihilation of my people.”

“Right,” Chris cringes. “Very bad.”

The Founder is hesitant to consider Chris an ally. “You mentioned Kira Nerys. As opposed to _you_ , I know of her from Odo’s thoughts. He was quite fond of her.”

Chris had grabbed hold of a crate to stand, but he pauses at the comment. “Yeah, well,” he can’t disguise his somber tone as he pulls himself up, “she’s still quite fond of him too.”

“Did she send you on this mission?”

“What?” Chris is caught off guard by the question as he brushes himself off. “Not by a long shot. There is no ‘mission’. I didn’t mean to be here. We were investigating these books when they got beamed over. I was too close.”

The Founder glances around the room. “This material… you know its purpose?”

“Well, the theory is that these books contain components of a biological weapon. You shouldn’t touch ‘em.”

“I see,” the Founder frowns and rubs his thumb and index finger together. “I’ve already observed that the print is damp.”

“Whatever you do, don’t touch any more!” Chris swings an open palm around the room of books. “There’s three components. It’d be _very_ bad for you to touch them all.”

“Thank you for the warning,” the Founder nods. “I’m aware of the crew’s objective, but not the means by which they intend to carry it out. All details have been shrouded in secrecy. Tasks are only assigned to the crew as-needed.”

“So, you have no idea how they plan to use this stuff?”

The Founder shakes his head. “I was tasked only with opening the crates at this time. I don’t know what follows.” The Founder looks Chris over. “You mentioned the Defiant. If you are here by accident, how do you know the ship is in pursuit?”

“Kira and I were together when these crates were beamed away. She knows I’m gone, but… ever since the war, she’s expected something like this might happen. She’s determined to protect Odo…” Chris knows that Odo is Kira’s main concern, but for the benefit of present company he fights to spit out a bit more in the same breath. “…and your people. Since she has a good idea of what this stuff is supposed to do, I’m positive she’s coming.”

“And your rescue?”

Chris looks to the floor and shrugs. “They might try; I’m not a priority.”

“I see.” The Founder raises an eyebrow. “Either way, this ship employs an advanced cloak. Do they possess the ability to detect it?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

The Founder crosses his arms and lets his eyes drift from Chris while he mulls over the situation. “Kira Nerys _is_ aware of our home’s location. The wise course of action would be to travel there directly and warn my people.”

“Right. They evacuated your old home planet when the Cardassians and Romulans attacked before. Maybe they will again?”

Surprised by Chris’ knowledge, the Founder squints as he turns back to face him. “Odo may trust her well enough to take such drastic action, but the others may not be convinced. We cannot assume they will.”

Chris looks around nervously.

“What’s wrong?” the Founder asks.

“I just remembered… Don’t weapons trigger alarms? Shouldn’t you be turning back into a Cardassian? Shouldn’t I be hiding?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes, but I’ve taken the liberty of disabling what sensors I could. It was only a matter of time before I’d need to eliminate some of the crew.”

Chris inspects the floor for any evidence that ‘Kim’ ever existed. “Yeah, that was quite… disturbing, Carl.”

The Founder blinks. “Carl?”

“Ah,” Chris rubs his forehead. “I overheard the two of you talking and didn’t hear any names. I made some up to keep you straight. I was calling you Carl. Can I call you Carl?”

The Founder scoffs. “Solids and your need for individuality. Of my kind, only the Hundred, such as Odo, ever sought unique identities.”

“Oh yeah… like Laas,” Chris smiles as the implanted memory pops to the surface. “I remember a Founder named Laas.”

The Founder squints at Chris. “You aren’t among Odo’s thoughts of those stationed on Deep Space Nine, yet again you demonstrate knowledge that implies otherwise. Are you a telepath?”

“Don’t I wish,” Chris’ focus drifts as he briefly considers the ability to peer into Kira’s thoughts.

“Then how do you explain…?”

“It’s complicated,” Chris answers abruptly, glancing at the doors to the cargo bay.

The Founder stares at Chris, suggesting they have ample time for explanations.

“I’m Chris by the way,” Chris holds out his hand for a handshake and wears an uneasy smile. “Maybe I can explain later, but being in here…” he says as he glances around the room again, “is making me nervous.”

“Of course, Chris. We’ll move on soon enough,” the Founder nods and accepts Chris’ gesture. “You may call me Carl.”

* * *

Back on the Defiant, Kira and Ezri continue talking privately in Ezri’s quarters.

“What _is_ it with everyone?” Kira says with frustration after taking a sip of raktajino. “Why does everyone think that I should _feel_ something for him? Julian thinks we should go on a date? Please.”

“Kira, you’ve been _miserable_ ,” Ezri says as she leans forward in her chair. “You said so yourself. You and Odo said goodbye _months_ ago, and back then you said it was for good. You should move on for your own sake—not anyone else’s. Chris has _very_ strong feelings for you. If you can’t give _him_ a chance, will you ever let _anyone_ close?”

“He’s known me for _two_ days,” Kira holds up two fingers. “Two days! He’s completely alone here. He’s just latching on to the first woman he met.”

“It’s more than that,” Ezri shakes her head. “I never had a chance to tell you this, but after the explosion in your office… I saw when he first got to Ops. The look in his eyes when he saw you were OK, and then the look of devastation on his face as we were leaving… there’s no question he cares about you a great deal.”

“Well, he needs to get over it before he gets hurt.”

“Emotionally, or physically?”

“Both! He was this close,” Kira holds up a thumb and finger with barely a space between, “to getting shot in the cargo bay.”

“That’s not exactly what I…”

Kira ignores Ezri and barrels on. “And if he _doesn’t_ get himself killed, I’m not sure how much more of his behavior I can take before I wring his neck.” Kira grips her mug tightly with both hands to simulate the act.

Ezri extends an arm towards Kira and flicks her hand open, bowing her head at the same time. “ _That’s_ what I meant.”

“Oh, please,” Kira scoffs. “I’d never _injure_ the man, but I’m never going to be whatever he sees when he looks at me.”

“He just sees _you_ ,” Ezri points. “Cares about _you_. Why is that so hard to believe?”

Kira rolls her eyes and groans. “This is pointless. We’re arguing about a corpse.”

“Kira!”

“I know; I’m sorry,” Kira flops her head forward. “That was callous.”

“Damn right it was!” Ezri shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you.”

“But he might be,” Kira speaks to the floor. “And it’s my fault. Knowing that… makes it hard to...”

“Now listen to me,” Ezri says firmly. “We’ve never written _anyone_ off so quickly before so I don’t know why you’re doing it now. Is it because it makes things ‘tidy’ for you? Does it make it easier to decide what to do about that ship once we find it?” Ezri points again. “We’re going to stop that ship _and_ get Chris back.”

Kira looks offended. “I’m thinking of who he is and where he is right now. His odds aren’t good. I’m not just trying to give myself an out here.”

“No? You have to admit, it sure makes things a helluva lot simpler if you assume he’s already dead. ‘Blow it to pieces, I don’t care. No one alive on _that_ ship we give a damn about’.” Ezri mocks Kira’s mannerisms.

“That’s not fair, Dax.” Kira sighs heavily. She sets her mug down and rests her forehead in her palms.

“What’s not fair is you giving up on him so easily,” Dax says calmly.

“I… I don’t _hate_ the man,” Kira says softly, “but I don’t…”

“You don’t what?”

Kira lifts her head to look Ezri in the eyes. “I don’t know, OK? I care about him; I _do_. The Prophets made him my responsibility; how can I _not_ care about him? But I don’t know how to filter that out and know what I really think. Seeing him get taken… it hit me harder than I expected, but…” she sighs heavily. “It doesn’t help that what I get from him is… completely overwhelming.” Kira makes a grand gesture with her hands. “I can’t deal with that—especially with the decisions I might have to make before this is over.” Kira picks up her mug and takes a drink. “It doesn’t really matter. I’m not ready to let go of Odo.”

The two sit quietly as they think to themselves.

Breaking the silence, Kira sighs. “I should get back to the bridge. There are others up there that can make better use of some downtime.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ezri nods. “Now that comms are back up, I’ll just keep Julian from his work if I stay here.”

As the two get up to head to the bridge, Ezri takes a light hold of Kira’s arm. “Kira, I’m sure they’re _both_ going to be fine.”

* * *

“They’re gonna _kill_ us, Carl!”

Carl rolls his eyes. “You underestimate my ability to deceive the crew.”

The pair have been opening crates of books on the Cardassian cruiser. Chris’ anxiety grows every minute they remain in the cargo bay, but Carl is adamant they complete the task he was given.

“We need the rest of the crew to believe nothing is amiss,” Carl says flatly. “This _must_ be done before we leave.”

“But… the dead guy,” Chris points to the general area where ‘Kim’ met his end. “They’ll know he’s gone.”

“I can emulate his continued presence as needed.” Carl morphs into ‘Kim’ briefly then back.

“That’s creepy,” Chris shudders.

“You’ve seen for yourself that this ship is sparsely manned. The enemy now numbers 28 on a ship that normally carries several hundred. When we’re done here, we can find quarters where you’ll be safe from discovery.”

“OK, but don’t be surprised if I’m a little jittery ‘til then…” Chris blows out a breath of air, “or longer.”

The two open crates in silence for several minutes.

“Hey…” Chris pauses and raises his phaser. “If you disabled the sensors that pick up weapons fire, why not just destroy the stuff?”

Carl shakes his head. “I was unable to access environmental sensors and controls. The heat generated by using a phaser on this much material would surely prompt a response before a significant amount could be destroyed.” Carl pulls out his disruptor and eyes it curiously. “Even the modified disruptors they issued the crew could not destroy this much material at a sufficient rate.”

“Modified?”

“My kind are inherently resilient. The output of these weapons has been altered to be surprisingly more sinister. The damage to a solid is… absolute.”

Chris shudders as he recalls the grisly death he witnessed in close proximity.

Carl re-holsters the weapon. “We must plan carefully; the stakes are too high to act on rash impulses.”

“The entire population of your planet…” Chris nods as he’s reminded of the scale. “Got it.”

Silence returns briefly before Chris has another thought. “Cargo bay door?” he asks and points with uncertainty given the obviousness of the massive door to space.

“Mechanically sealed,” Carl replies. “Chris, we can discuss other ideas once we’re safely hidden.”

“OK, OK,” Chris nods and relents.

The pair’s diligent work continues. Finishing a section of crates and working his way back to Chris, it is Carl that rekindles the conversation this time.

“You mentioned earlier that you overheard some of my conversation with our late crewman. At what point was that?”

“I was out in the corridors at the time. I caught that the other guy didn’t like yamok sauce.”

“I see; so you _are_ at least partially aware of our predicament.”

“That we’re trapped on a flying prison, purpose-built to confine someone with your shape-shifting abilities?” Chris tips his head at Carl. “I’m not too happy about that.”

“’Flying prison’ is an adequate analogy,” Carl nods. “Things like cargo bay doors,” he points to the massive door Chris asked about, “and airlocks have been sealed. However, they were not flawless in their preparations.”

“Oh?” Chris says with hopefulness.

“The internal sensors, for example.” Carl gestures to the walls around them. “We cannot take on the entire crew, but as we’ve seen, my tampering means a skirmish will not alert the others.”

Chris nods as Carl continues.

“They were more cautious about installing protection and automated defenses around critical areas and systems such as environmental controls and propulsion. Despite their thoroughness, I found some things that may prove useful during my initial search for ways to disable or destroy the ship.”

“Destroy?” Chris’ eyes open wide.

Carl gestures for patience. “I can survive the hazards of empty space, as well as most calamities that would cause the ship’s destruction. I will not mislead you; despite your arrival, the destruction of this cargo, or the entire ship if necessary, is my first priority.”

“But…”

“However,” Carl cuts Chris short, “my investigation yielded no possibilities for outright destruction that the Order did not account for.”

Chris sighs in relief.

“That being said…”

Chris stops unlatching a crate and scoffs. “This good news, bad news game is killing me, Carl.”

Carl ignores Chris’ sarcasm. “The Defiant is more than capable of destroying this ship. That may be the only option we have for preventing an attack on my people.”

“Not that I’m a fan of that option, but if the Defiant can’t find us…”

Carl releases the latches on the final crate and drops the lid to the floor. “I may be able to help them.”

* * *

Other than stating that he may be able to discreetly make the ship visible to someone actively looking, Carl says nothing as he leads Chris through the ship to a hiding place. They can’t risk a crewmember overhearing them speak like Chris overheard Carl and the now deceased ‘Kim’ before.

Carl selects vacant quarters that are a safe distance from turbolifts and major passageways to limit the odds of any crew passing by. He turns on the lights and gestures for Chris to enter.

“Wait here while I attempt to make it possible for this ship to be detected and tracked. We can discuss more when I return.”

“OK.” Chris glances around the quarters and spies the replicator. “Hey, Carl?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could help me get something out of that before you go?” Chris points to the replicator. “I can’t read Cardassian, and my last encounter with one was less than spectacular.”

Carl nods and approaches the machine. “What would you like?”

“I’m so hungry… I don’t even know.”

Carl shrugs and starts operating the controls. Moments later, a plate appears on a tray that holds a large piece of baked chicken atop a bed of rice, covered in cheese and vegetables. A glass of wine and a dinner roll appear as well.

Chris blinks. “Oh, that looks amazing.”

“We frequently infiltrate societies to gather intelligence,” Carl grins. “I have some knowledge of human tastes. I hope you enjoy it.”

“I will.” Chris sighs heavily. “This meal may be my last.”

Carl puts a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “We’ll have time to consider alternatives to having the Defiant simply destroy this vessel. What I will be attempting is subtle; it will still take time for anyone to detect us.”

“Good,” Chris nods slowly, “but I understand: destroying the cargo is the priority. We’ll see.”

Carl nods.

“Hey…” Chris pulls his PADD from his waistband. “Is there any way you can put a map of the ship on this thing so I can check it out while you’re gone?”

Carl looks between Chris and the desk in the room. “Of course. There’s a console right here.” He leans over and quickly taps on a screen. “The basic layout is not restricted. You should have it now.”

“Huh?” Chris blinks in amazement. He looks at the PADD to discover his blue dot in the middle of a map of the ship. “How’d you do that?”

Carl squints. “You are a puzzle, Chris. You know of Odo and others from Deep Space Nine, and you seem to have knowledge of some complex technology… but of some simpler things you’ve proven to be quite ignorant. You said your history was ‘complicated’, but my curiosity is piqued.”

“I’m not from around here, exactly,” Chris hesitates. “Do you know of the Prophets—in the wormhole?”

“ _Them_ ,” Carl scowls. “Yes. They are quite powerful beings that fancy themselves protectors of Bajor. If it were not for them…”

“Yeah, well,” Chris tries to halt Carl from descending into a lengthy monologue about the Prophets’ effect on the outcome of the war. “Your people’s history with them aside, they’re the reason I’m here.”

“On this ship?”

Chris shakes his head. “No. They’re the reason I’m in this _time_. I’ve been brought from about 350 years ago.”

Carl blinks, more with intrigue than surprise.

“They fed me a lot of information. My best analogy would be… like your Great Link, I guess. They shared memories with me to… get me up to speed. It was a bit ‘hit and miss’ on some things though.”

“I see…” Carl says. “Fascinating. That raises many questions, but now is not the time. I should be going.”

“Sure,” Chris says, somewhat nervous to be left alone.

“You’re safe here,” Carl says with confidence. “The crew is not aware of your presence and no one has reason to enter these quarters.”

“OK,” Chris nods, nervous despite the reassurance.

Carl smiles and opens the door. “Enjoy your meal. I should only be gone a couple of hours.”

“Thanks again, Carl,” Chris holds up the PADD and gestures to the tray of food.

Carl bows his head and steps into the hallway.

When the door closes, Chris eagerly digs in to his waiting meal. It feels like years since he’s had anything more elaborate than a pizza or frozen dinner, so Chris can’t help but make contented sounds as he devours everything on his plate.

After eating entirely too much, Chris takes his PADD and the glass of wine to the couch to get comfortable. To be better prepared to discuss ideas with Carl when he returns, Chris needs to study the layout of the ship. He tries not to think about it, but his life may depend on it.


	21. The Enemy of My Enemy

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Enemy of my Enemy**

True to Kira’s word, the Defiant charges into Dominion space without slowing from their aggressive warp 8. There’s no longer any question; the crew is now in direct violation of the Treaty of Bajor. They also face an imminent threat of Dominion forces responding to their presence.

Kira clenches her jaw as Matthews makes a delayed announcement.

“We’ve entered Dominion territory, sir,” Matthew reports.

“I’m well aware of our location, ensign,” Kira replies shortly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kira suffers her second attack of déjà vu since leaving the station. When they rescued Odo from the Cardassian and Romulans’ last attempt to destroy the Founders, they did so against explicit orders from Starfleet. It was a relatively new transfer, the infamous Michael Eddington, who sabotaged the Defiant because he was “following orders.” Kira hates Eddington even more in retrospect given how close they’d come to losing Odo to the Jem’Hadar because of that delay.

This time around, faced with eerily similar circumstances, Starfleet Admiral Ross has raised no complaints about their foray into the Gamma Quadrant. On the contrary, he’s become somewhat of an accomplice by ordering the USS Venture to repair the wormhole relay. He had every opportunity to order them to return to the station. The admiral’s ‘support’ should lend additional legitimacy to the mission in the eyes of the crew.

Kira has no idea if Ross is acting with Starfleet’s blessing or if he plans to feign ignorance after the fact. The evidence Kira shared with Ross’ aide before her office exploded wasn’t much, but the incident itself and the possible implication of leaderless Dominion forces being unleashed upon the galaxy are hard to ignore. Then again, Starfleet doesn’t always see the bigger picture when violations of policy are involved.

Kira has no time to worry about what high-ranking Starfleet officers might think.

_They can call this a ‘rogue operation’ to cover their butts.  They can call it whatever the hell they want. A busted treaty won’t mean a damn thing if the entire Founder population is murdered._

Right now, Kira needs to focus on the Dominion. She’s brought the Defiant here to prevent an attack on their leadership, but can she really convince their forces she’s here to help?

_Only one way to find out…_

“Lieutenant, open a channel,” Kira calls out to Ezri.

“A little late to knock, isn’t it?” Ezri grins.

Tilting her head and closing her eyes, Kira almost winces at the unwelcome attempt at humor.

Ezri’s smirk fades in response to Kira’s obvious lack of amusement. “Right… Channel open.”

Kira nods and sits up straight in her chair. “USS Defiant to any Dominion vessel. I repeat, this is the USS Defiant attempting to contact _any_ Dominion vessel. Please respond.”

Looking to Ezri, Kira waits to see if there is any reaction to the broadcast. After a few seconds, Ezri shakes her head.

“I expected them to great us with ships, not silence,” Kira huffs.

“I’m not reading any ships within sensor range, sir,” Nog reports from tactical.

“I’m sure they’re out there, lieutenant. Probably keeping an eye on us from planet-side outposts—waiting for orders.” Kira taps her armrest impatiently. “Dax, put that message on a loop. Let’s see if we annoy anyone enough to respond.”

“Yes, sir,” Ezri answers.

“Helm,” Kira turns to Matthews. “What’s our ETA to the Founder homeworld?”

“At our current speed, we’re approximately fifteen hours from the coordinates you provided, sir.”

“Steady as she goes then.”

“Aye, sir.”

On one hand, Kira is relieved they’ve not been met with an aggressive show of force by the Dominion. A fight won’t help them stop the cruiser they’re after, and her confidence in the makeshift crew they assembled is shaky at best. She needs to start an amiable dialogue with Dominion forces because the truth is, they need help finding the Cardassian cruiser before it’s too late. Given her mood and diplomatic track record, Kira has doubts she can pull it off.

In the back of her mind, Kira considers possible outcomes if the Dominion doesn’t like what she has to say—if she ever gets a chance to say it.

_If they keep us from finding the cruiser… Odo, the Founders, Chris… they’re all done for. If they find the ship on their own, they won’t think twice about destroying it—and Chris along with it._

Kira dreads a tough decision she’ll have to make if the Defiant _does_ find the ship before the Jem’Hadar: try to save Chris at the risk of letting the cruiser slip away, or take the earliest opportunity to destroy it. Still, she’d rather be given the chance to make that decision than leave Odo and Chris’ fate in Dominion hands.

“Any luck spotting that cruiser, lieutenant?”

“No, sir,” Nog reports. “I’ll keep trying, sir.”

Kira nods as she stares at the stars racing towards them on the viewscreen.

_It’s been a long time since we left the station. If he’s still alive, Chris must be terrified._

* * *

Chris cracks a wide smile. He looks up at a scattering of puffy white clouds in an otherwise clear sky. A hot, August sun warms his skin. As he watches a pair of birds chase each other above, pleasant chatter fades in from every direction.

Chris lowers his eyes and soaks in the festival surrounding him. Colorful lights and tinny music emanate from carnival games, wonderful smells of barbeque and funnel cakes mingle in the air, and a crowd of people laugh and smile with friends, family, and loved ones.

Chris turns as cheers erupt from a nearby game. A festival worker fetches an oversized plush bear as onlookers applaud. Chris can’t see the lucky woman’s face, but he instantly recognizes her short, reddish-brown hair.

Chris is completely captivated by the spectacle that is Kira Nerys in summer clothing of the 21st century: a red, short-sleeve top, rolled-up blue jean shorts, and low-cut canvas shoes. Chris’ heart flutters every time he sees her, but now—watching her legs flex and a band of her waist expose as she reaches for her prize—he knows that his feelings for Nerys are not purely platonic. He feels guilty for studying her form so intently, but he can’t pull his eyes from her.

Staring too long at faded denim, Chris quickly shifts his focus upward as Nerys’ hips rotate. He can’t hear her amid the crowd, but Chris has no trouble making out the long “O” shape of her lips as she closes her eyes and hugs the bear tightly. As if the utterance of his name were a magical incantation, the bear transforms into the long-absent constable. An excited “I knew you’d come back” breaks through the crowd’s applause as the two embrace.

Chris is devastated as he witnesses Kira and Odo’s loving reunion. His heart breaks as the lovers kiss. As if his despair were audible, the pair abruptly turn to face him. Kira’s expression is immediately foul.

“What are _you_ doing here?!” Kira yells at Chris with an angry scowl. “Get out of here!”

Odo scoffs, almost amused. “Did you really think she could _love_ you?”

Chris clutches his chest and falls to his knees. His vision starts to narrow as his heartbeat drowns out cruel laughter from the surrounding crowd.

Kira storms at Chris. “I said, get out!”

Chris can’t move; he struggles for air.

Reaching him, Kira violently grabs Chris’ shoulder. Her nostrils flare and chest heaves as she makes a tight fist with her other hand. Chris braces for a blow to the face, but she kneels to his level and violently thrusts her fist _into_ his chest. The physical pain is incredible, but the greatest hurt stems from the hatred in her eyes. Chris’ body starts to disintegrate around the hand impaling him, much like the Cardassian in the cargo bay.

As his body slowly burns from the inside, Kira crumbles the charred crust of Chris’ heart in front of his face. She glares into his eyes. “I will _never_ want this.”

* * *

The opening door startles Chris awake. Carl, in his Cardassian guise, steps into their improvised ‘hideout’.

“You got some rest. Very good,” Carl says as he morphs back into his more natural Founder self.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” Chris growls as he sits up, more to shake the traumatic dream than out of frustration for dozing. “I wish you’d gotten back sooner.”

“Why,” Carl looks around, “is something wrong?”

“No…” Chris tries to shake the image of Kira’s fury. “I was having what started as a pretty good dream, but it turned _really_ ugly. I’d like to’ve woken up before that part.”

“Dreaming,” Carl nods. “An interesting phenomenon. We don’t share this trait with your kind.”

“You’re not missing anything,” Chris sighs. “Mine have been so _intense_ since the Prophets brought me here. They’re getting harder to tell apart from the visions they’ve given me, and _those_ have been quite convincing.”

Carl shrugs. “Then how do you know these ‘dreams’ have not also been visions?”

“Well, for this one… I was on Earth, in the past, and Kira pulled my heart out of my chest. Then I disintegrated.”

“I see,” Carl raises an eyebrow. “You should hope that was merely a dream.”

“Yeah,” Chris scoffs. “Besides, no one ever wins ring toss, those games are rigged.”

“Ring… toss?”

“Nevermind,” Chris shakes his head. “I’m just trying to stop thinking about the rest of it. How’d it go out there?”

“My success will only be known if someone finds us.”

“If?” Chris frowns. “That confident, huh?”

“The ship _can_ be tracked—I have no doubt. Someone need only look closely enough. Until _you_ arrived, I had no reason to believe anyone would. I hope it will be your friends on the Defiant that do.”

“I’ve barely been in the 24th century two days. I wouldn’t say I have any ‘friends’ here yet.”

“Hence the dream of rejection?”

“Hey, now.” Chris is offended by the assessment. “You some kind of psychologist?”

“Not quite,” Carl grins. “But we study cultures _very_ closely and share our knowledge in the Great Link. It’s a valuable asset in our efforts to infiltrate societies.” Carl observes Chris’ continued distraction. “Your fondness of her is obvious.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t wanna talk about it,” Chris says as he crosses his arms. He tries to change the subject. “Why do you hope it’s the Defiant that finds us? Wouldn’t you prefer the Jem’Hadar get to us first?”

“The Jem’Hadar would destroy this ship without hesitation. The Defiant, on the other hand, may make an effort to rescue you.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Chris rolls his eyes. “They barely know me. Given the stakes involved…” he pauses and blinks at Carl. “Without hesitation? The Jem’Hadar see you as gods, they wouldn’t just…”

“They don’t know I’m here.”

“What?”

“My mission was to infiltrate the Obsidian Order and watch for plots against my people. As I’ve said before, this crew’s operation has been carefully shrouded in secrecy. I was fortunate to learn of this ship and board it before departure. I was unaware I’d be unable to send a message once aboard.”

“Wow,” Chris’ eyes drift. “Kira’s primary concern will be to stop this ship. They might not think I’ve made it this far—I _wouldn’t_ have if it weren’t for you. They might not hesitate to blow this thing either.”

Carl points to Chris’ chest. “If the Defiant finds us, they’ll attempt to contact you. We can use your communication device to collaborate with the colonel and her crew.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chris looks down at his shiny new combadge. “I almost forgot.”

“Now,” Carl takes a seat at the table in the room, “let’s discuss the remainder of our situation.”

* * *

The Defiant speeds deeper into Dominion territory with no response to Kira’s repeating message. Though she has no regrets about crossing into enemy space, she’d greatly prefer opening a dialogue over being the victim of an ambush by Jem’Hadar attack ships. The longer they go without a response, the greater the chance of the latter grows.

After nearly an hour, Kira’s patience runs out. “Dax, kill that message and open a channel.”

“Yes, sir,” Ezri nods. “Channel open.”

Kira’s frustration is thick. “This is the USS Defiant. Since no one wants to respond to our hails, I’ll just tell the entire quadrant about a threat to the Founders over an open channel. Since no one seems to care that we’re here, I don’t expect anyone to…”

“Kira,” Ezri calls out. “I’m getting a response.”

“Finally,” Kira exclaims and gestures to the main viewer. “On screen.”

A female Vorta and two Jem’Hadar soldiers appear. All three wear tactical visors typical of Dominion bridge crew.

The Vorta addresses Kira in a brassy tone. “USS Defiant. I am Eris of the Dominion. We’ve been monitoring your progress. The only threat _we’re_ aware of is you.”

“Let me get this straight,” Kira cocks her head in disbelief. “You’ve been watching us and listening to our hails, and you’re _just_ now…?”

“In our experience,” the Vorta interrupts, “a lone warship is often scouting for a larger force—or serving as a distraction. We’ve concluded that _you_ … are simply foolish.”

“Not foolish,” Kira shakes her head. “Desperate.”

The Vorta blinks at the unexpected response. “Desperate? Enough to jeopardize a treaty that brought an end to a _very_ costly war?”

Kira takes a deep breath and bobbles her head. “I forgot my manners. I’m Colonel Kira Nerys of the Bajoran Militia, acting captain of the USS Defiant.”

“ _You_ ,” the Vorta’s tone sours. “The _arrogant_ woman who believed she could steal the heart of a _god_. Are you risking war to beg for his return?”

Kira’s temper rises, in no small part because the Vorta’s words hold a great deal of truth. “I’m here because he’s in danger,” Kira says sternly as she stands from her chair, “along with the rest of the Founders.”

“That’s good,” the Vorta raises an eyebrow and grins, “because I find it truly _pathetic_ how most humanoids behave when they want what they can’t have.”

Kira flinches at the comment.

_Am I that transparent? Is my hope for Odo’s return really… pathetic?_

Kira collects her thoughts and regains her composure. “You say you’ve been monitoring us; have you also been monitoring a cloaked, Keldon-class Cardassian cruiser?”

“My, what a _mouthful_ ,” Eris rolls her eyes. “And what might this ‘cloaked, Keldon-class Cardassian cruiser’ be up to?”

“They’re heading to the Founder homeworld with large quantities of a biological weapon.” Kira points to Ezri and nods. “We’re transmitting our analysis of the compound now. I… need to mention that we have a man on board their ship, but…”

“Let me see if I understand you, colonel,” Eris interrupts smugly. “You have samples of this biological weapon, one of your own people is on board, and yet… this vessel is still en route to the heart of our empire?” Eris clicks her tongue. “This is _quite_ suspicious.”

Kira fights to keep her cool.

_Prophets, if we were in the same room I’d ‘tweak’ that attitude in a hurry._

Kira takes a deep breath. “You’ll see in our report that the compound’s been hidden within simple written material—books. We were still in the process of studying them when the Cardassian ship decloaked and beamed them away. Our missing man is a civilian; he was standing among the material when it was taken.”

“An abducted civilian,” Eris sighs sarcastically, “and a vessel that escaped from your very doorstep. How does the Federation accomplish _anything_ with this level of incompetence?”

Kira fumes in silence.

Another Jem’Hadar crewman steps into view and whispers in the Vorta’s ear. Their audio mutes as the two exchange words. Eris’ expression of smug amusement slowly changes to grave concern.

“My _apologies_ , colonel,” Eris says after resuming their audio feed. “It appears we’ve gotten off to a _dreadful_ start. The report you’ve transmitted is incredibly disturbing.”

Not wanting to sound too smug herself, Kira bites her tongue and shakes her head dramatically. “No need for an apology. Now… we’d like nothing more than to handle this matter ourselves, but…”

“You can’t detect the vessel,” Eris finishes Kira’s sentence in all seriousness. “Like I stated earlier, we’ve not detected any other ships in our space.”

“We believe they’re using an enhanced cloak, similar to what was used in a larger-scale attempt a few years ago.”

“I see. That is… a problem.”

“How big a problem? It was our understanding that your sensor technology…”

“Still has its limitations,” Eris bows her head slightly. “We shall intensify our patrols, but as you know, we’ve just been through a tiresome war and… the number of ships available is limited.”

The two women stare at each other in quiet contemplation. Both now understand the seriousness of the situation and neither has a good answer for finding their target before it reaches its own.

Eris breaks the silence. “Colonel... your man on board… will he be, shall I say, ‘tactically valuable’ in this endeavor?”

Kira shakes her head. “We’ve lost contact. He’s a civilian with limited technical knowledge. We don’t even know his current status.”

“I see.” After a pause, Eris clears her throat and bows her head. “The Dominion thanks you for bringing this matter to our attention. Consider yourselves ‘guests’ for the time being. We will apprise you of any new information, and we would expect you do the same. We’ll be watching you closely.”

“Thank you,” Kira nods. “Understood.”

“Good,” Eris nods. “And colonel? What are your intentions should you find this ship?”

“Ideally… we’ll save our lost man,” Kira swallows, “but that ship can’t be allowed to reach its destination.”

“Glad to know you understand your priorities. Eris out.”

The viewscreen reverts to a field of streaking stars as Kira hangs her head. For the Vorta’s benefit, the man the Prophets asked her to protect is being referred to as expendable. Kira knows it may come to that, and while having the Dominion join the search may make finding him more likely, Chris’ survival just became more tenuous.

Kira and Ezri share a look. Ezri nods in understanding of Kira’s situation and the choice she may have to make.

* * *

“What do you _mean_ that won’t work?” Chris asks with frustration.

Carl sighs. “I believe we should review the fundamentals of our predicament.”

Dropping his PADD on the table, Chris leans back and groans. “Alright. I guess I _have_ muddied the waters over the past couple of hours. Sorry for getting a bit off track.”

“No worries,” Carl shakes his head. “I was quite fascinated to learn how you came to be here and how the beings you call the Prophets provided you a wealth of information.”

“Pretty crazy, huh?”

“Quite,” Carl agrees. “Now, in review…” he says as he looks over a PADD, “there are no shuttles. All physical points of egress are either sealed or lethal by nature—even to me. There are _no_ communication devices on board save your badge, which has a very limited range. And, though you’ve had some _creative_ suggestions, we have no means of destroying the bioweapon without the crew intervening.”

“C’mon, I thought feeding the books into a replicator was a good idea.”

“An original thought, yes,” Carl admits, “but aside from the fact that the system won’t break down the compound…”

“I know, I know,” Chris sighs. “You don’t have to give me the replicator lecture again, _or_ repeat the math of how long it would take to feed them into one in the first place.”

“I believe we’ve done all we can at this point. The only way I see us escaping is if the Defiant or Jem’Hadar attack this vessel and beam us out after the shields collapse.”

“I sure don’t like the sound of that,” Chris groans. “Y’know… I’d never heard of this ‘secondary shield’ thing you mentioned. I’ve only heard: ‘shields up, captain’, ‘shields down, sir’, or ‘shields at forty percent’. I’ve never heard anyone say ‘our shields are down, captain, but those _secondary_ shields are just _peachy_ ’.”

Carl sighs. “This goes back to your ‘flying prison’ analogy and the fact that we’re not on just _any_ flying prison, but a _cloaked_ flying prison. The configuration is unique. Not even the Romulans treat an entire vessel as a prison cell.”

“My brain is tired… I feel like I should know what you’re getting at.”

Carl nods. “You _have_ demonstrated excellent knowledge and comprehension given your circumstance. Remember, a cloak employs the use of a ship’s deflector grid.”

Carl pauses, waiting to see if Chris catches on.

Chris blinks. “Oh, you’re doing that thing teachers do: lay out the pieces of the puzzle… then wait for the light bulb to come on over my head.” Chris waves his hand over his head. “Mine’s all but burnt out.”

“Very well,” Carl sighs. “Since the cloak and the primary shields both employ the use of the deflector grid…”

“Oh!” Chris’ ‘light bulb’ finally reacts. “They can’t both be used at the same time, and since the shields are what stop the transporters, they’d need a secondary deflector grid.”

Carl smiles. “So, you _were_ trying to think it through. Very good.”

“Yeah, it finally hit me, but I _am_ tired,” Chris yawns. “I just don’t like the idea that whoever finds us is going to be firing on this ship whether they want to save us or not. Even if they don’t mean to, we could be killed before all of the shields come down.”

Carl nods. “Correct. Ships are not completely protected from damage while shields are active, so that is a distinct possibility—especially considering the extra shield strength involved.”

“Great,” Chris says with heavy sarcasm. “And I can’t believe you said they sealed the escape pods.”

“This wouldn’t be a very good ‘flying prison’ if one could simply hop in an escape pod.”

“I know,” Chris nods. “But… they still work, right? They’re just sealed?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Carl points at Chris, “Even if we beam into one, the launch controls inside the pods have been disabled.”

“But there’s two of us. One of us could use the manual whatever-you-called-it then hide while the other calls for help.”

“Only… the crew would _surely_ destroy any pod that we launch.”

Chris growls and rubs his forehead. “OK then, what about the books?”

Carl stops to consider the idea. “Another original thought, but the crew would surely scan a pod before destroying it. They could use the tractor beam to pull a book-filled pod within the shield envelope and recover the material with the transporters.”

“Damn. I thought I was on to something there.”

Carl stands up and slides his chair under the table. “You should try to get more rest. I need to make sure the crew aren’t missing their shipmates. Would you like anything else out of the replicator before I leave?”

“No thanks,” Chris replies with a tinge of guilt. “I think this plate of brownies’ll see me through. And… after that last dream… I’m almost afraid to sleep.”


	22. Breadcrumbs

**Chapter Twenty-two: Breadcrumbs**

The door to Chris and Carl’s ‘hideout’ on the Cardassian cruiser slides open, startling Chris awake for the second time. Sitting up, he growls and swings a closed fist against the back of the couch.

Carl raises an eyebrow as the door closes behind him. “Another bad dream?”

“Yeah,” Chris grumbles and closes his eyes.

“Do you want to… talk about it?” Carl asks in an awkward display of sympathy.

“No.” Chris clasps his hands behind his bowed head and presses his elbows towards each other. “Just… give me a minute.”

Carl sets his weapon on the desk and watches Chris silently battle inner demons. Not a year ago, Carl wouldn’t concern himself with the plight of a solid, but Chris’ combadge, and the people on the other end of it, are critical to any chance of saving his people. Sharing Odo’s experiences in the Great Link has made him consider solids like Chris, as opposed to the vengeful Cardassians, with a new perspective. He’s beginning to understand how Odo came to consider some of them friends.

After Chris fails to move or speak for several moments, Carl decides to break the silence. “Did your latest dream involve the colonel?”

“Yes, and I seriously _don’t_ want to talk about it.”

“Did you perish in this dream as well?”

After a delay, Chris acknowledges Carl’s presumption softly. “Yes.”

Carl observes Chris’ body language closely and decides not to prod further. He gives Chris a few more minutes of peace.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Carl begins after Chris fails to emerge from his thoughts, “but I find it curious that you have such strong interest in someone you don’t even claim as a friend.”

Chris lowers his arms and looks up at Carl. “Excuse me?”

“You mentioned earlier that you don’t feel you have any friends in this time.”

“Well… I don’t. Not really,” Chris runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “As for her… I can’t explain it. Sometimes you just… _feel_ things.”

“Hmm. Emotions and relationships are much simpler for my kind.”

“Oh yeah?”

Carl shrugs. “We share our entire _being_ with one another in the Great Link. There’s no longing, no want, no torment—we exist in contentment.”

“Longing, want, torment…” Chris sighs. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“Remember who you’re talking to,” Carl grins. “I spoke those words with purpose.”

“Oh, right… the not-quite-a-psychologist.” Chris rolls his eyes. “Is this the part where you tell me to forget about her and get on with my life? You know… the few hours I have left of it?”

“Your optimism astounds,” Carl quips as he takes a seat in one of the armchairs in the room. “Actually, I’m less puzzled by your behavior than hers. Having shared Odo’s thoughts, I don’t understand what she clings to. His departure from her was understood to be permanent.”

“Sometimes… we solids lie to ourselves.”

“I see,” Carl nods. “Dishonesty is very rare among my kind—to each other at least. Our inherent disclosure makes ‘lying to one’s self’ an exceptionally peculiar notion.”

“Yeah, well… _I’ve_ been telling myself that we’re going to get out of here alive and she’ll eventually realize he’s not coming back. It’s a load of crap.”

“I believe you underestimate our chances of survival,” Carl says as he reclines in his chair and crosses his arms, “but there’s not much we can do now but wait. Perhaps you could tell me more about the time and place you’ve come from.”

“Sure. Why not.” Chris leans back on the couch after grabbing the last brownie from the table. “It’s not like we can go for a walk.”

* * *

Nog’s eyes repeatedly and impulsively glance to his right. Kira has been hovering over his shoulder for the past few minutes and he is acutely aware of her presence. He’s been attempting to find the cloaked Cardassian cruiser ever since they came through the wormhole, but his efforts are yet to be met with any success. The colonel’s occasional sighs aren’t helping.

“Huh…,” a voice utters from the pair’s left. “There is it again.”

“There’s _what_ again?” Kira asks, turning to the source. “And… who are you?”

“Ensign Timms, sir,” the young woman eeks out from the science station in response to sudden attention. “I think the maintenance team must’ve done something to my console. I’ve been reading faint polaron pulses, about five minutes apart, but they seem to be coming from nothing.”

Kira blinks in amazement. “Ensign… you _do_ realize we’re looking for a _cloaked_ vessel, right? How long have you been reading these pulses?”

The ensign shrinks in her chair. “For approximately 25 minutes, sir.”

“Dax?” Kira groans and makes a half pointing, half shooing gesture at the ensign. “Would you please?”

Ezri trots across the bridge and flashes an apologetic smile at Timms as the ensign vacates her post. “It’s nothing personal.”

“What do you make of it?” Kira shifts from behind Nog’s chair and anxiously hovers behind Dax.

“Kira,” Ezri expresses mild annoyance. “I _just_ sat down.”

“Fine.” Kira spins and walks a tight circle between the science station and the captain’s chair, coming right back to hover again. “Well?”

Ezri rolls her eyes. “Timms is correct. Sensor logs show faint polaron pulses every five minutes.”

“What would cause that?”

Ezri shrugs. “Some races use polaron beams as their primary weapons, including the Jem’Hadar, but polaron sweeps can also be used to, let’s say… find a shuttle hiding in an asteroid field.”

“Are we picking up artifacts of the Jem’Hadar’s search for the cruiser?”

“I don’t think so,” Ezri cocks her head and leans closer to the display. “The pulses are too faint and the interval too great to be effective as a scan. It’s also strange for it to be so regular. Let me check something…”

“The ensign couldn’t identify a source; do you think there’s a chance…?”

“Yes!” Ezri turns to Kira in excitement. “It _could_ be them! The movement of the pulse’s origin is roughly consistent with what we know of the cruiser’s speed, assumed course, and time of departure.”

Kira clasps her hands together and presses them against her lips as she stares at the console. “Is there any way to confirm it?”

Ezri shakes her head. “I… I don’t know that we can without getting closer. Even then, given their cloak…”

“We’re going to find out,” Kira nods. “If you can determine the course of that pulse, we can intercept it. Feed the speed and bearing to the helm once you have it.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Nog, I think you’re off the hook, unless…” Kira eyes the lieutenant. “Is the cloaking device fully operational? If we have a failure and spook the Cardassians we won’t get another shot.”

Nog nods with relief. “All work on the cloak was completed before we left. It’s ready when you need it, sir.”

Kira pats Nog’s shoulder. “Engage the cloaking device; let’s go see what we’ve got.”

Turning to the young ensign, Kira does her best to shroud her disappointment. “Return to your post, Timms, and be sure to report _anything_ out of the ordinary from now on.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Should we notify the Vorta?” Ezri says as she returns to her original post. “They’ll surely know we’ve cloaked.”

Kira takes her seat at the captain’s chair and stares at the screen. “Just tell them we’re investigating a ‘suspicious anomaly’ and that we’ll update them soon.”

“Yes, sir.” Ezri nods.

“Do you have an intercept course yet, Matthews?” Kira asks the helm.

“I do, sir.”

“Engage.”

* * *

Carl sets a tray of chocolate chip cookies on the table in front of Chris. “I believe these, much like your last request, are meant to be consumed in moderation.”

Chris takes a healthy bite of a delicious, soft cookie. “Oh my god; these are amazing,” he says as he chews. “And yeah, I’m totally not behaving myself. But… you know… some people eat when they’re upset. I may only have a few hours left to enjoy things like this, so… whatever.”

Carl squints at Chris. “From what you’ve told me about your previous physical state, I believe you must have been _frequently_ upset before you were brought to this time.”

“Ever heard of a divorce, Carl?”

* * *

“I’m not picking up a vessel, sir,” Nog reports, “but we should be tracking 10,000 kilometers behind the source of the pulse.”

“It’s _got_ to be them,” Kira leans forward in her chair. “Wait for the next pulse to get a better fix on their position, then close to within combadge range.”

“Do you think Chris has anything to do with the pulses?” Ezri asks.

Kira shakes her head. “I highly doubt it, but I still plan to see if he answers.”

“If?”

Kira answers with a guilty glance.

“Sir, we should be within combadge range now,” Matthews reports.

“Open a channel.”

* * *

Carl looks perplexed. “They… drop a… ‘ball’?”

Chris leans forward to grab another cookie. “It’s purely symbolic; they don’t really ‘drop’ it. It’s some insanely intricate gizmo they lower down a post on top of a building in the middle of an enormous crowd of people.”

“Fascinating,” Carl blinks.

Chris mumbles with a full mouth. “I think it’s stupid. I mean… who cares if…”

The combadge on Chris’ shirt comes to life. “Defiant to Chris. Are you there, Chris?”

Chris is completely stunned. He swallows his bite of cookie and blinks. He’s not sure if the voice he just heard was real or imagined.

Kira’s voice emanates from his combadge again. “Defiant to Chris. Are you receiving?”

Carl taps on the table. “Chris, your colonel has found us. Answer them.”

Chris takes a deep breath and blows it out, trying to hold back a swell of emotion at being found. He’d practically accepted the fact that he and Carl would either be found by the Dominion, who would destroy the ship on sight, or reach the Founder homeworld and witness genocide before being discovered by the Cardassians and killed. He’d been dwelling on Kim’s demise and other ways the crew might kill an intruder—most of them slow and painful. Being found by the Defiant doesn’t guarantee that either of them will leave this ship alive, but the odds are no longer impossible. That fact, plus the mere sound of the woman’s voice he thought he’d never see again, is proving hard for him to handle.

Chris taps his combadge and hesitates. He wants to blurt out how he feels about Kira: that he loves her and doesn’t give a damn if the whole crew of the Defiant knows it. He may not get another chance to express it and, though his fondness of her is no secret, he’s never said the words.

“I…” Chris pauses. “I am _so_ happy to hear your voice, Kira.”

“I’m happy to hear yours too, Chris,” Kira says with genuine excitement.

Chris wasn’t able to say the words he’d wanted to, but it’s true: he’s _extremely_ happy to hear Nerys’ voice—so happy that his own voice escapes him and his eyes well up. Chris buries his face in his hands, embarrassed by the display of emotion in front of Carl.

“Are you still there, Chris?”

“Yeah,” Chris sniffles and speaks to his palms. “I just… I didn’t think you were going to find us.”

“ _Us_?” Kira is blindsided by the plural reference. “Chris… who is _us_?”

“There’s a Founder with me. However you found us, you can thank…”

“A Founder?” Kira is shocked.

“I uh…  I screwed up. I screwed up bad. A Cardassian had me dead in his sights. Carl got him first.”

“Carl? You met a Founder named Carl?”

“They don’t have names, so… I gave him one. He doesn’t seem to mind it.”

Carl grins and shakes his head subtly to affirm Chris’ statement.

“We’ve been worried about you,” Kira says. “We… we can’t thank Carl enough.”

“He did whatever it was that let you find us. Messed with the cloak or something?”

Carl joins the conversation. “Colonel Kira, I am… Carl. My alteration of the ship’s sensor array is no longer relevant, but we _do_ need to discuss the matter of this vessel’s cargo—and our possible extraction.”

“Very happy to meet you, Carl,” Kira says genuinely. “There’s nothing ‘possible’ about it. We’ll lock onto Chris’ combadge and beam the two of you aboard. A couple of quantum torpedoes should take care of the cargo.”

“It’s not quite that simple, colonel,” Carl answers Kira’s enthusiasm with a muted tone. “The Cardassians have, as Chris put it, converted this ship into a ‘flying prison’. The most pertinent modification is the addition of a secondary deflector grid. Transport is impossible, even with the cloak engaged.”

“What?” Kira is astonished. “Why would they go to such trouble?”

“As you are aware, the Obsidian Order’s past attempt against the Founders failed due to infiltration by my people. They hoped none of my kind would board this vessel, but they took many precautions in the event any of us did. They wanted to ensure that none of my kind would be able to interfere with the mission, disembark, or otherwise send a warning.”

“Damn,” Kira mutters.

“You are aware of the _purpose_ of this vessel, correct?” Carl asks.

“I am,” Kira sighs, realizing that Carl is alluding to the threat to every Founder in the Great Link. “And our analysis shows that the ship you’re on only needs to enter your homeworld’s atmosphere to combine and disperse the bioweapon.”

“Then the only course of action you have is to attack the ship. Our extraction will only be possible once the shields collapse.”

“With the two of you on board? If they’ve bolstered their shields, not only might you be injured, but there’s a chance we’ll tear the ship _apart_ before they go down.”

“We understand the risk,” Carl affirms.

“Chris?” Kira asks anxiously. “Do you understand what the Founder is suggesting?”

Chris has been fixated on Kira’s voice, trying hard to commit every tone and inflection to memory. He blinks at the mention of his name. “Uh… yeah. Carl and I talked about it for hours. Wearing down the shields is the only way.”

Kira takes a deep breath. She knew there was a possibility that she’d be faced with this situation. Finding it’s the _only_ option doesn’t make it any easier to give the order to open fire.

Kira blows her breath out and sighs. “All right, you two. Targeting a cloaked ship is a _bit_ more difficult than getting into comm range. It may take some time before we can do this. Sit tight for now. And Chris…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Still compelled to share his feelings, Chris again loses his fight to conjure the words. “I… look forward to it.”

* * *

Kira props an elbow on her armrest and rests her forehead on her hand. “Nog, work with Timms and make sure we have a solid fix on their position. Wait for as many polaron pulses as it takes to get a good target.”

“But, sir…” Nog objects to firing blind.

Kira lifts her head and points with the open hand she’d been leaning on. “I know this is difficult, lieutenant. I’m not expecting you to drop their shields in one volley, but we need them to believe we know _exactly_ where they are. If we miss… they could change course or disable the pulses we’re relying on to track them. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

“If we’re convincing enough, they should drop out of warp and decloak to raise their primary shields and return fire. Once that happens, I need you to find the weakest point of their shields and hit it with all the phaser power we can muster… no torpedoes. We don’t want to rattle them any more than absolutely necessary.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Let me know when you have a firing solution.”

“On it, sir.” Nog turns to Timms and they get to work.

Kira turns to the main viewer and stares intently at the seemingly empty space before them. She feels a guilty excitement that they’re preparing to rain destruction upon a ship bringing doom to Odo. At the same time, she can’t shake the image of a helpless Chris being beamed from the cargo bay on Deep Space Nine.

“Kira,” Ezri calls softly from her station, looking distraught. “I’d like you to take a look at something.”

Kira pulls herself from her thoughts. “What is it, lieutenant?”

“Can you come here for a minute?”

Kira can’t quite read Ezri’s expression, but it proves compelling. She stands and takes the short few steps to Ezri’s station.

“Now…” Ezri whispers, “I _know_ this is an invasion of privacy, but since you raised the question about whether the Founder could be manipulating the situation somehow, I… kept monitoring Chris’ combadge.”

“And?” Kira grows concerned given Ezri’s demeanor, “Is he OK?”

Ezri hands an earpiece to Kira. “Listen.”

Kira puts on the earpiece and Ezri taps her panel. Chris’ is the first voice Kira hears in the recording.

“Jesus,” Chris begins. “Why am I such a coward?”

“What do you mean?” Carl responds.

“I tried _twice_ to tell her I love her—I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to die with her not knowing.”

Kira closes her eyes and shakes her head.

“There’s no certainty we’re going to die,” Carl replies. “Besides, she already knows.”

“How do _you_ know?”

“For one, she was very pleased to hear you.”

“She found the ship,” Chris sounds frustrated. “Now she can save Odo. _Of course_ she’s pleased.”

The truth of Chris’ statement prompts a pained expression of guilt from Kira.

“There was more to her tone than that,” Carl argues.

“Oh, please… she freaking _hates_ me, Carl.”

“I believe your bad dreams are getting to you.”

“Maybe… but it doesn’t matter. She loves Odo; end of story.”

“But he won’t be returning to her.”

“As long as he’s alive… there’s a chance he might. That’s what she clings to. As for me, I’m some… misplaced relic. I don’t ‘fit’ here. Feeling what I feel and… being in the way—I’ve been miserable.” There’s a pause as Chris sighs heavily. “I told you I died in the wormhole, right?”

“You did,” Carl answers with concern.

“I don’t like where this is going,” Kira mutters quietly.

“I’ve been believing for the past few hours that I wasn’t going to make it off this ship. Our odds really aren’t that much better now,” Chris says. “But you know what? If I know it means she’ll be safe, and happy… I can accept it.”

Ezri taps her panel, halting the playback.

Kira lets out a long breath as she drops the earpiece on Ezri’s console. “Why’d you want me to hear this? This is hard enough as it is.”

“Like he said,” Ezri says as she stows the earpiece. “I thought you should know how he feels… just in case.”

“The Founder’s right, Ezri; I already know. Chris may not have said the words, but I got the message.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Do?” Kira says, frustrated. “There’s nothing I _can_ do.”

“You could talk to him,” Ezri puts a hand on Kira’s arm. “Give him another chance to put his mind at ease.”

Kira purses her lips and sighs heavily. She closes her eyes and nods subtly. “Alright, I’ll talk to him. But he may not be any better off for it. I’m not going to lie.”

Ezri nods. “Thank you.”

“Dax has the conn,” Kira says loudly. “Let me know if _anything_ changes. Don’t initiate the attack until I return.”

A chorus of “yes, sir” echoes around the bridge.

* * *

Kira reaches the captain’s ready room and takes a seat at the desk. She stares at the console for several moments before tapping the controls.

“Kira to Chris.”

“Yeah?” Chris replies with surprise. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Ready to start firing?”

“Not yet. I… I wanted to talk to you first. Are you alone?”

“Just a second; let me get to the other room.” The sound gets muffled, as if Chris put his hand over his combadge. “I’ll be in here for a few, Carl.”

“Take all the time you need,” is Carl’s similarly muted reply.

After a short delay, Kira hears Chris take a deep breath. “OK, I’m alone. What’s up?”

“How do I say this,” Kira sighs. “We, uh… weren’t sure if the Founder could be trusted. Ezri took it upon herself to listen in with your combadge after we spoke.”

“Uh…” Chris is stunned. “I… uh… seriously?”

“I’m sorry, but we were worried. I’m _still_ worried… because of what you said.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not, like… sui…”

“Chris, we’re going to get you out of there. I prom…”

“Don’t!” Chris says, suddenly assertive. “Please. I know you can’t promise that. And I’m not the big picture here. Don’t pretend I don’t know that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I… I didn’t mean to snap at you, Kira. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK. We’ve been through a lot lately. I understand. Please… call me Nerys.”

“I wanted to tell you earlier…” Chris’ voice shakes. “But I’m having trouble saying it.” He grunts in frustration.

Kira rests her forehead on her hand and speaks softly. “You don’t have to say it.”

“But how can I really mean it if I can’t tell you?”

“Because… you don’t want to not hear it back.”

There’s a long pause. After a sniffle, Chris replies. “I guess that’s it.” There’s the sound of a long, shaky breath. “But… you know it, right?”

“I do, Chris. And I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but… I’m not going to lie to you.”

Chris sniffles again. “I appreciate that.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, or that I won’t to do everything I can to get you back. We’ll take _every_ precaution to make sure we do. And don’t think for _one second_ that this is just because the Prophets asked me to look out for you.” Kira pauses for a long breath. “Yes, you got under my skin. And yes, I got angry with you… but I _do_ care about you, OK? We’ll see each other again—very soon.”

“I want that more than anything, Nerys.”

“I know,” Kira nods to her panel despite the lack of a visual. “Now… you and the Founder should get ready. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“OK,” Chris replies as if preparing to sign off, but quickly continues. “Nerys?”

“Yes, Chris?”

“Thanks for talking to me. It means a lot. But… if things go south… please lie to me?”

“Just… hang in there, Chris.”

Kira closes the channel and covers her eyes.

* * *

Chris sits on the edge of the bed, staring out at the stars. A light tapping sound gets his attention, but he wipes his face with his sleeve before turning to see Carl in the doorway.

“We must seem pretty silly to you most of the time, huh,” Chris says.

“Quite the contrary,” Carl says softly. “I told you we live in contentment. Despite our quest for order, there is beauty to be found among chaos. Your kind displays surprising strength to survive among it.”

Chris huffs. “I feel pathetic.”

“But you learned something.”

“Just now? What exactly did I learn?”

“That she _does_ care about you,” Carl says and leans forward. “She didn’t _need_ to contact you again, but she did. She truly cares about your welfare.”

Chris blinks as he considers Carl’s assertion. A nod and a smile signal a pleased agreement. “That helps, Carl. Thanks.”

“Oh, and something else…” Carl grins. “My people have _excellent_ hearing.”

Chris groans and flops back on the bed as Carl smiles and turns from the doorway.


	23. The Worst Laid Plans

**Chapter Twenty-three: The Worst Laid Plans**

Kira stares at her console after closing the channel with Chris. The recording Ezri shared on the bridge prepared her for Chris’ mood, but theirs was a difficult conversation nonetheless.

_Am I giving him false hope?_

Kira sighs heavily as she stands to return to the bridge.  Her short walk from the ready room is traveled at a slow, thoughtful pace. She’s not at all happy with the odds of getting Chris out unscathed, so his recorded words haunt her.

_Willing to die? For_ my _sake?_

Kira huffs as her slow steps pause. She closes her eyes and runs a hand through her hair.

_He damn near did after that stunt in the cargo bay. He claims he didn’t think before pushing me clear, but that’s bullshit. He knew_ exactly _what he was doing._

Kira cares about Chris—her reactions have proven that much—but obviously not the way he cares about her. She sifts through their short conversation, trying to decide if she crossed the line between encouragement… and leading him on.

_I hope I didn’t give him the wrong idea. I probably shouldn’t have contacted him at all._

Staring at the door to the bridge, Kira tries to focus on the task at hand.

_That cruiser_ has _to be stopped._

After what the founder shared, Kira can only hope there’s a cruiser left when its shields go down.

Kira is well aware that starship battles are violent affairs. There’s no doubt that deflector shields offer significant protection, but it’s not uncommon for vessels to suffer severe damage, even casualties, well before they collapse. She’s no expert in starship design, but she knows a balance is struck between shield strength, hull thickness, and core structure. Ships are designed to survive more punishment than it takes to deplete fully charged shields, but how will one fare through the battering of a second, fully independent deflector grid?

_Cardassian ships are tough—hopefully tough enough._

Kira takes a deep breath and releases it slowly.

_But if we try ‘delicate’ and they make a run for it…_

Kira chews her lip and wrings her hands. She hasn’t forgotten what else is at stake.

_Maybe we should blow ‘em to hell while we have the chance._

Kira flinches at the thought. She steps to the bridge door quickly, hoping to leave it behind. Though Chris’ feelings for her are inconvenient, the man is counting on her to return a favor.

_He’s earned it. The Prophets expect it._

The bridge door slides open. The fate of many will be decided soon enough.

* * *

Stepping onto the bridge, Kira is taken aback by the scene in front of her.

Eris glares from the viewscreen. “I want _answers_ , lieutenant!”

Ezri crosses her arms defiantly. “For the _third_ _time_ : you’ll have to wait!”

“What the _hell_ is going on?!” Kira joins the fray, surprising even herself with the intensity of her outburst.

“Colonel,” Eris’s angry eyes follow Kira as she steps into view. “It has come to my attention that you’ve _found_ the ship you came for—and that there’s a _Founder_ on board. We _demand_ an explanation!”

After everything leading up to this point, including an emotional conversation with a man whose very survival is in question, Kira is in no mood for petty arguments and has absolutely no stomach for feigning diplomacy.

“You _demand_?” Kira says angrily. “Is this a joke? Tell me… how did this ‘come to your attention’?”

Kira knows the answer to the question, but she wants to see if the Vorta will acknowledge it or feign ignorance. Very quickly however, she decides she’d rather yell at Eris than listen to her. As soon as Eris opens her mouth, Kira jumps right back down her throat.

“I don’t need a _word_ from you!” Kira makes a grand, dismissive sweep with her arm. “I know _damn well_ where we are, and I know damn well that your listening posts have intercepted _everything!_ You know _at least_ as much as we do! You don’t need an explanation; you just want to watch us flounder in diplomatic bullshit. Lady… _I_ don’t have time for it!”

The bridge is deathly quiet save for soft beeps from consoles.

Eris’ angry expression slowly morphs into a grin. “Very well, colonel. I _do_ grow tired of the ‘floundering’ from time to time. And I must say… I was _deeply_ touched by your conversation with this ‘expendable’ civilian. After your performance, I find it very interesting you’re willing to throw his life away.”

Kira’s eye twitches. “You know the stakes. You heard the Founder yourself. He’s the one…”

“I _do_ know the stakes,” Eris says with an intense stare. “If it _weren’t_ for the stakes, _we_ might question your motives.” Her smug grin slowly returns. “Let me ask you _this_ , colonel. Does your man know you’re trading his life for another?”

Kira hesitates. “We hope to get both of…”

“Does he _know_ , colonel?” Eris asks firmly.

Kira takes a deep breath and narrows her eyes. “He does.”

“Ooh,” Eris smiles. “You’re colder than I thought. Splendid.”

Kira ignores Eris’ comment as she takes her seat in the captain’s chair. “So. Do we have a ‘real’ problem here, or are you done wasting our time?”

“We most _certainly_ have a problem. _You_ may be willing to trade the life of your civilian to neutralize that vessel, but your present plan of action is unacceptable. The risk to the Founder is too great.”

“There aren’t any options here, Eris.”

“I’d like very much to know what ‘options’ you’ve cared to explore!”

“You’ve heard our transmissions. I’m relying on intelligence from your ‘god’. I assume you can respect that.”

“A god he may be, but we have several more prepared to study the situation and consider alternatives. What does your Federation say?” Eris pauses to await an answer. Her warped grin returns when Kira doesn’t have one. “Do they even know you’re _here_?”

Ambassador Ross is aware that the Defiant passed through the wormhole in pursuit of the Cardassian ship, but Kira doesn’t know, and honestly doesn’t care, about anyone beyond that. With the Treaty of Bajor in place, Starfleet would form a committee or task force to investigate the situation before taking action. There’s no time for it, much like there was no time to ask Starfleet’s approval before giving chase in the Defiant. Being in command of Deep Space Nine gives Kira some latitude, but not to violate a treaty that ended a war that crippled the Federation. History will ultimately determine if they’re heroes or fools.

Eris smiles when Kira once again fails to reply. “Such _audacity_. I could learn to like you, colonel. Federation officers are usually so… ‘by-the-book’.”

Kira rolls her eyes. “Time is short, Eris, but if you can propose something to stop this ship with a better chance of safely recovering _both_ our men… I’m willing to wait.”

“Of course,” Eris nods. “To that end, I’d like a private conversation with the Founder.”

Kira scoffs loudly.

“However,” Eris continues. “I won’t pretend that it _would_ be as we’re relying on your man’s communication device. So… let’s all share a nice chat, shall we?”

Kira props her elbow on her armrest and rests her chin on her hand. She’s not against looking for an alternative plan, but she has a feeling she’s not going to like whatever the Dominion comes up with. The odds for Chris and the Founder are equally poor at this point, and any option the Dominion presents may swing the odds significantly in the Founder’s favor. However, if there’s a chance they can come up with something promising that the Founder hasn’t considered, she’s prepared to play along.

Without answering the Vorta directly, Kira turns to Ezri. “Dax, raise Chris and make sure it’s safe for them to talk.”

“Aye, sir”

“Eris,” Kira says as she turns back to the monitor. “I’d like to make a couple things clear before we get started.”

* * *

Chris stares at the ceiling above the bed in their hideout on the Cardassian cruiser. He’s been experiencing a range of emotions since talking with Nerys: depression, because his odds of survival are still poor; embarrassment, because Carl overheard his entire conversation with Nerys; and strangely… happiness.

Nerys didn’t necessarily say anything endearing, but he fixates on how ‘not full of hatred’ her voice had been. After the horrible dreams he’s had recently, that counts for a great deal.

_She may as well have said “I don’t love you,” but she said it like she cared._

The more Chris puts a positive spin on Kira’s opinion of him, the more he dreads the next time they speak.

_Oh my god… I spilled my guts. I was crying. How do I talk to her after that?_

As Chris dwells on impending awkwardness, his combadge beeps to signal an incoming communication.

_Shit. What the hell do I say?_

“Defiant to Chris.”

He cringes at first, but Chris opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow as he realizes the voice isn’t Kira’s, but Ezri’s.

“Ezri?” Chris responds hesitantly. “Where’s Nerys?”

“She’s… ‘discussing’ some things with a Vorta right now.” Ezri lowers her voice to a whisper. “They don’t get along too well.”

“A Vorta?” Chris sits up on the edge of the bed. “Is that going to be a problem? I mean… are you guys safe?”

“We are,” Ezri responds pleasantly to the expression of concern. “Actually, they’re… cooperating—if you can call it that.”

“I know the brunt of the threat is to their people, but… I guess that surprises me.”

“Yeah, well…” Ezri whispers. “It’s not been pretty. The Vorta’s not happy we hadn’t told her we found you, or that there’s a Founder on board.”

“I can imagine.”

“You sound better, Chris. We were worried about you.”

“About that…” Chris says sheepishly. “I’ve been under a lot of stress, and…”

“Absolutely!” Ezri agrees. “You still are. No need to explain. And… I’m sorry for tapping into your combadge.”

“It’s OK; I understand why you did it. But… I said some things—earlier _and_ just a bit ago. I’m a little embarrassed. Did everyone on the bridge…?”

“No. Of course not. Only Kira and myself heard the feed from your badge and she left the bridge before contacting you. Chris, you’ve been facing life and death situations; I doubt you had that back home.”

“No, I can’t say that I…”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Ezri says resolutely. “But we’ll _definitely_ have to talk about it later. As of right now… the Vorta doesn’t like our plan and wants to talk things over with Carl—I mean the Founder.” Ezri whispers again. “She doesn’t like us calling him ‘Carl’.”

Chris scoffs. “OK. I can step in the other room in a second. Did she… _say_ anything after we talked? I mean… I feel like an idiot.”

“I’m sure you’re overreacting,” Ezri says. “And no, we haven’t had a chance to talk about it. I had the ‘pleasure’ of talking to the Vorta while Kira was off the bridge. She had to jump right in when she got back.”

“I see. Thanks.”

* * *

“Hey, Carl?” Chris says as he walks into the main room of their hideout. “A Vorta wants to talk to you.”

“I heard,” Carl grins as Chris sets his combadge on the table.

“Ezri?” Chris says after rolling his eyes at Carl. “We’re ready on this end.”

“OK,” Ezri replies. “I’ll see if they’ve finished arguing.”

While Ezri checks, Carl leans over to Chris and whispers. “Try to relax, you _are_ overreacting.”

Chris sighs and drops into his seat. He feels extremely anxious about joining Nerys in this discussion.

_Sure… relax. Focus on the life and death thing. Ignore the heart in my throat thing. Just… relax…_

“How are you holding up, Chris?” Kira asks suddenly.

“I’m, uh…” Chris flounders. He knew she’d be on the line, but he didn’t expect Kira’s first words to address him directly. “I’m doing better. Thanks.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Patching the Vorta in now,” Ezri reports.

Chris rubs his forehead and pushes out a short breath.

“Founder,” Eris begins as soon as she’s connected. “I must express my _extreme_ regret for the _dreadful_ situation in which you’ve been placed. It _pains_ me that you’re at the mercy of this Federation crew.”

“Let me be clear, Eris,” Carl says, having quickly recognized the voice. “It was my own zeal that allowed me to board this ship, and my own misfortune that confined me to it. Likewise, it seems fortune alone is responsible for sending this human to share my predicament.” Carl nods to Chris. “Without that development, there would’ve been _no_ search for this vessel, and we’d have _no_ means of communication at our disposal. I ask that you respect the unique set of circumstances in which we find ourselves. I expect you to _fully_ cooperate with the Defiant’s crew.”

“But I…” Eris pauses to abandon an argumentative tone. “Of Course, Founder.”

“The Defiant’s commander took us at our word, but it appears you need reassurances that our options are truly limited at this point.”

“I only wish to explore _every_ possibility before allowing them to put you in such danger.”

“Of course,” Carl replies. “Please allow me to… is there something on your mind, Chris?”

Having made a gesture that implied a question, Chris clears his throat and whispers to Carl. “Isn’t she the first Vorta the Federation encountered?”

“I am,” Eris replies shortly, reminding Chris that all of them can hear him.

“Oh. Um… so you’re the one who pretended to be a prisoner of the Jem’Hadar when Quark and Sisko were captured?”

“And?” Eris asks expectantly.

“Um… nothing… I guess,” Chris says softly. “I just…remembered and… sorry, Carl. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Please do,” Eris adds impolitely.  “And would you _please_ stop using that _atrocious_ name for the Founder.”

“ _I_ gave him permission to use it,” Carl says firmly.

“Very well, Founder,” Eris says apologetically. “Please continue.”

Chris doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth again, so he sits quietly while Carl and the others talk. Besides, he’s already heard this lecture. Shuttles, exits, shields… the whole deal. Kira and Eris ask similar questions to what Chris had before, as well as several others that never occurred to him. Carl, however, quickly demonstrates that he’s considered nearly every possibility himself. Other ideas, like when Chris made some ‘creative’ suggestions, are similarly discounted.

As Carl, Kira, and Eris drone on, Chris’ thoughts linger on Nerys. Just listening to her, he can’t believe how indifferent he’d felt, not even an hour ago, about fighting for any chance to see her again. He’d surrendered to the fact that she will always be waiting for Odo’s return and that being around her on the station would only torment him—like his recent nightmares. But… knowing that she cares, even a little, has rekindled the excitement and wonder of leading a life in this time. He’s painfully aware of the priorities in this scenario, but he wants nothing more than to be back on the station with Nerys. It may not be how he wants it to be, but he’ll take any connection with her he can get. Chris tunes back in to the conversation, listening for any new shred of hope to cling to.

“You heard the colonel, Founder,” Eris pleads. “There’s no guarantee the ship will survive the effort to lower its shields by force.”

“Both of us understand that risk,” Carl replies. “But do you have any alternatives we’ve not yet considered?”

“There has to be something! Can we…” Eris pauses to think. “Can we revisit the escape pods? You said they’re sealed, but do they still function?”

“Yes,” Carl answers, “but the controls in the pods themselves have been disabled. We couldn’t…”

“Not _both_ of you, no,” Eris points out, “but _one_ of you could…”

“Now wait a minute,” Kira raises her voice, “I know where you’re going with this.”

“Colonel,” Eris says calmly. “If it’s possible to use one of the vessel’s transporters to place the founder in a pod, your civilian could…”

“He has a name,” Kira snaps. “I’d appreciate you use it.”

“Chris then, I believe it is, could launch the Founder’s pod manually. The Defiant could recover him before the enemy crew reacts, and your man would be no worse off.”

“ _Hardly_ ,” Kira answers in disbelief. “Assuming they don’t detect the transport, the crew would _definitely_ know someone launched the pod. They’d find him before we could take the shields down. Launching that pod is a death sentence.”

Chris gulps.

“For what it’s worth,” Carl says, “I’ve sabotaged some internal sensors—including those that would detect a transport.”

“That doesn’t really matter,” Kira scoffs. “They’d still know as soon as he launches the pod.”

“Even if they weren’t,” Carl says ominously, “I should note that when the Defiant attacks this vessel, Dominion forces will move to intercept you. Their interest would be to assist in destroying this vessel… _without_ concern for Chris’ extraction.”

“Founder,” Eris says with feigned ignorance. “If the Defiant had you in custody, we would never...”

“You would,” Carl cuts her short. “Especially if you arrive with an imposing force, which I’d also expect.”

“Don’t worry,” Kira interjects. “I wouldn’t trust her for one second. But this is still pointless.”

“Founder,” Eris says. “I’m perplexed. Why are you…?”

“Because,” Carl doesn’t let Eris finish her question, “like I’ve already said, if it weren’t for this man’s presence, we wouldn’t _have_ this opportunity. We owe him the same chance of escape for this reason alone, but also because… I consider him a friend.”

Surprised, Chris smiles at Carl and nods a reciprocating sentiment.

“With all due respect,” Kira says. “I don’t trust _you_ either.”

“Understandable,” Carl replies.

“Well then,” Eris sighs with frustration. “It seems as though we’re back at the beginning.”

“Maybe not,” Chris braves rejoining the conversation. “What if we…”

Eris scoffs. “I have _no_ interest in _anything_ you have to add to this discussion.”

“But… I think you’re on to something. Carl and I ruled the pods out earlier, but you reminded me that the situation’s different now.”

 Kira can’t believe Chris is suggesting something so reckless. “You can’t be serious!”

“Hold on, there’s a difference…” Chris continues. “Instead of just Carl, we load as many books into pods as we can. There’s twenty escape pods on the deck we looked at. If that’s enough to hold all the books for one of the bioweapon components, that should remove the threat to the Founders. I bet I could launch ‘em all before the crew even knows what’s happening. The Defiant just has to recover Carl and destroy the rest of the pods.”

“Interesting…” Eris says, “but I don’t really see the difference.”

“I don’t either,” Kira says. “That’s a _worse_ idea, Chris. Not only do you broadcast your presence, but you expose yourself to fire while trying to launch twenty pods!”

“I believe I see his intent,” Carl says. “If the crew believes their payload is compromised, they may abandon the mission.”

“Yes… that,” Chris says as he nods though only Carl can see him.

“Even if you _can_ launch them all, and even if they _do_ give up the mission,” Kira’s says with palpable frustration, “they will still _kill_ you.”

Chris gulps and looks to Carl.

“Colonel,” Carl says with confidence, “I believe this plan is plausible.”

“Plausible?” Kira argues. “I need something a helluva lot better than ‘plausible’ before I’ll think sending him to run through open corridors of a hostile ship is a good idea.”

Carl clarifies his assertion. “The manual launch controls for the pods are closely grouped, ten on each side of the ship. I can take steps to hinder access to that deck to ensure Chris has time to complete his task.”

“And what about after that? He just waits to get shot?”

“Of course not,” Chris says, obviously lacking Carl’s confidence but still committed to the idea, “Carl and I can look over the layout again. We’ll find a good place for me to hide after I’m done.”

“I don’t like it. There’s a lot of ‘ifs’ in this idea,” Kira says. “ _Big_ ones.”

“If the crew surrenders after their payload is compromised,” Carl says, “the risk to Chris is greatly reduced.”

“Another ‘if’. What if they don’t?” Kira fires back.

“Then his chances are similar to what they are now.”

“But…” Kira begins.

Eris rejoins the discussion. “Colonel, once you engage the vessel, we can move to intercept and assist with the shields in the event the crew does not surrender.”

“So kind of you,” Kira’s sarcasm is thick. “But how do I know you won’t just destroy the ship in case one component out of three isn’t good enough for you?”

“To that end,” Carl says, “I will be in the _last_ pod Chris launches, not the first. If something goes wrong, I will share Chris’ fate.”

“But, Founder…” the Vorta objects strongly.

Kira is beside herself. “That still doesn’t address…”

“Colonel,” Carl says, “If Chris successfully launches my escape pod, I will be in command of the Dominion forces as soon as they arrive.”

“You forget that I don’t trust you,” Kira’s frustration is growing. “And…”

“But _I_ do,” Chris says. “I trust him, Nerys. He’s already saved my life.”

“That’s not good enough for me, Chris,” Kira says. “And _I_ still don’t like your chances once they know you’re on board. Why not have the _Founder_ launch the escape pods? He can change into something ten times as fast—and he’d be a _hell_ of a lot better at hiding.”

“Nerys,” Chris leans closer to the combadge on the table and speaks softly. “I know that you’re _really_ here to save Odo.” His brief pause is met with silence. He continues. “But… we’re also trying to prevent another war. I know you don’t like this plan, but letting Carl get hurt would be bad for everyone. You know how I feel about you. I want to make it back to the station more than _anything_ —but a war won’t break out if I don’t. Let me do this.”

After Chris stops speaking, all four remain silent. Chris and Carl stare at the combadge.

“Carl,” Kira says softly. “You make sure you do _everything_ you can to give him enough time.”

“I will.”

“Eris,” Kira says, “like it or not, we’re going to have to start this off by opening fire. To have _any_ chance of recovering the Founder and eliminating the bioweapon, we need to persuade them to drop out of warp.”

“Of course,” Eris replies.

“I’d appreciate it if you could do as you said and get here as fast as possible once we engage, just in case we _do_ need to wear down their shields. Beam weapons only; torpedoes would cause too much hull and structural damage.”

“Understood.”

“Understand something else. If it gets to a point where we can’t recover Chris and that ship is still a threat… _I_ make the call to…” Kira clears her throat and takes a breath, “to do what we have to do.”

Chris is moved by Nerys’ difficulty in considering his death. He takes a deep breath of his own and wipes the corners of his eyes.

“I appreciate your situation, colonel,” Eris says, “but the entire population of our leadership is at stake. We’ll allow for every opportunity to recover your man, as the Founder requests, but in the end… we will do what we must.”

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get,” Kira concedes. “The next steps are yours, you two. Take the time you need to make this happen right, but let us know the _instant_ anything changes. If the crew figures out what you’re doing, we want to start hitting those shields as soon as possible.”

“We’ll begin preparations immediately,” Carl says.

“We’ll let you know when we’re ready,” Chris adds. “This’ll work, Nerys.”

“It better, Chris,” Kira responds. “I don’t want to have to kill you.”


	24. On Your Mark...

**Chapter Twenty-four: On Your Mark…**

The unsettling hum of the Cardassian ship is the only audible sound after the chaotic conference call falls silent. Chris’ wide eyes blink slowly as his combadge softly signals the channel’s closing. Neither he nor Carl utter a word for several seconds after Kira’s closing remark.

“Chris,” Carl says softly. “We should get to work.”

Chris’ eyes don’t leave the combadge on the table. “Why’d she have to say it like that?”

“Chris…”

“I mean... I know they might have to blow us up if things don’t go well, but… damn.”

“You’re from a different time, Chris. From what you’ve told me, I can’t imagine you’ve been involved in any effort of such… gravity. She may simply be trying to motivate you to take this seriously—a reminder for us to do everything in our power to make this operation succeed.”

“Oh. Well…,” Chris nods. “It wouldn’t be the first time she’s accused me of being immature.”

“I don’t believe that’s…”

“Nevermind,” Chris waves a hand dismissively. “I like your explanation better than what _I_ heard. I heard: ‘I don’t care if you _die_ , just don’t make _me_ do it’.”

“You’re overreacting again.” Carl shakes his head taps the table. “Let’s get to work so we can go home.”

* * *

Kira pushes out a long breath as Eris’ visage is replaced by the streaked starfield hiding a cloaked Cardassian ship.

“That sounded cold, Kira,” Ezri comments from her station.

Kira rubs her forehead. “I… didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… frustrated. How the hell does he expect to pull this off? I don’t care _what_ the Founder does to give him more time; he’s taking a huge risk.”

“There’s no easy way out of this. You know that. So does he.”

“I know,” Kira sighs. “I’m sorry how it sounded, but… he needs to understand how serious this is—and stay focused.”

“Or… he’ll slip back into the funk he was in.”

“Don’t.” Kira shoots Ezri and unpleasant glance. “ _We_ need to stay focused too. We’ll worry about everyone’s feelings when we get back home.”

“Of course,” Ezri nods and turns back to her station.

“Nog,” Kira says, moving on. “You and Simmons…”

“Timms, sir,” the young ensign corrects.

“Sorry; Timms.” Kira blinks rapidly after spitting out Chris’ last name. She’s not sure if anyone, including Ezri, caught the slip.

_I don’t think the others even know it. Hell,_ I _barely know it._

“You were saying, sir?” Timms asks meekly.

“Yes,” Kira says as her eyes refocus on the young ensign. “The, uh… the two of you need to maintain a firing solution on that cruiser. Keep an eye on those pulses. Make any adjustments you need. We may have to fire at a moment’s notice if Chris gets into trouble—missing is not an option.”

“Aye, sir.”

* * *

Using Carl’s knowledge of the cruiser’s layout and Chris’ map PADD, the pair sneak around the deck holding the escape pods. They choose a primary and secondary hiding spot for when Chris has finished launching them. When they’re satisfied with their choices, they make their way to the transporter room on the same deck.

Looking around the room, Chris examines the control panel in awe. “I can’t say I enjoyed my first trip with one of these, but the technology is… simply incredible.”

“Then you shouldn’t object to using it,” Carl grins.

“What?” Chris drops his jaw. “I-I can’t use this!”

“For the task at hand, the process is quite straightforward.”

“Carl, I couldn’t use a replicator… or even a _comm_ panel two days ago.”

“Now you can, and we’re about to add ‘Cardassian transporter’ to your repertoire.”

“I don’t know about this,” Chris shakes his head. “I mean, what we’re doing is important, and I’m…”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Carl lifts his chin. “You’ll be performing one of the simplest transporter operations possible. I will show you.”

“If you say so,” Chris says as he looks over the panel’s symbols. “You remember I can’t read any of this, right?”

“I’ll prepare the configuration; you’ll just be moving material. Because we’re not dealing with living beings, we can let the machine treat the books as mutable. It will rearrange the cargo to fit the space we designate.”

“Oh… well, _that’s_ cool.”

Carl nods. “I’m entering the sensor pattern for one of the bioweapon components. These were provided to the crew to validate the cargo, but we’ll use it to get a transporter lock. Now… this section of the panel shows the target to be transported, and this section shows your desired destination.”

“That part kinda looks like my PADD.”

“Very similar,” Carl nods. “The transporter system is linked to the sensor network. You select the material you want to move, select a destination, then this…” Carl presses a button to perform a sample transfer, “engages the transport.”

“Whoa…” Chis’ face is filled with wonder as he watches the display. “Wait… what’s wrong?”

Carl’s head is cocked as if listening for something. “I previously tampered with internal sensors to allow freedom of movement. If anyone discovered my work and detected the transport… there will be an alarm.”

“Oh, shit!”

Carl grins and shrugs. “No worries… no alarm. There must not’ve been anyone in the cargo bay either.”

“That’s not funny, Carl. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Carl chuckles. “If what your colonel said about the bioweapon is true, there’s no reason for anyone to return to the cargo bay to witness our handiwork. While I’m gone, you need to fill the remaining pods—save the one we discussed. I need to do what I promised your colonel I would… ensure you’re given as much time as possible. When I return, we’ll want to move quickly before anyone discovers what we’ve done.”

* * *

“Eris is hailing us,” Ezri reports. “She’s requesting to speak with you, sir.”

“I made it perfectly clear that we’d…” Kira sighs, then flicks her hand at the main viewer. “Put her on.”

“Aye, sir”

Eris wears an almost genuine smile when the connection is made. “Colonel, how are the preparations progressing?”

“We’re as ready as we can be. We’re just waiting to hear back from Chris and the Founder.”

“Excellent. I wanted to let you know that I’ve consulted with another Founder. They agree that this plan presents a good chance of success.”

“That depends on how you define success. If you’re simply referring to eliminating the threat to the Great Link… there’s little question. But if you’re talking about…”

“I’m referring to the chance of recovering our men— _both_ of our men.”

“Is that why you hailed us? To give us a pep talk?”

“They also wanted to reassure you, like the Founder trapped with your civilian, that they’ll not allow any rash actions that would jeopardize his recovery.”

Kira shrugs her shoulders. “Eris, there’s only _one_ Founder in this _entire_ galaxy that I trust, so unless you can arrange for him to tell me that himself, you’re wasting your breath.”

Eris nods with a smirk. “Understood.”

“Are your ships ready to assist?”

“They are. Let us know as soon as you engage; we’ll make our best speed to you.”

Kira and Eris share a nod, then the Defiant’s main screen once again shows only stars.

* * *

Moving material from the cargo bay to the escape pods doesn’t take Chris very long. The quick work leaves him ample time to think while Carl is out blocking access to the deck. There are no chairs in the transporter room, so Chris makes himself comfortable on the floor. He leans against the wall and sighs.

Kira’s last words still linger in his mind.

Chris has now had two very disturbing dreams where Kira violently attacked and killed him. The first was a bit on the fantastic side, with Kira literally pulling his heart out of his chest, but everything else about it, including the pain, was _very_ real. He didn’t want to talk to Carl about the second one, but that dream was more disturbing because of its… practicality. He’d run into Kira before a holosuite baseball game against a Vulcan crew. Never again will Chris underestimate someone wielding a Louisville Slugger. He shudders as he massages his jaw.

_Why’d they feel so damn real? I hope they go away when this over—it’s gotta be the stress._

Chris does his best to bury the nightmares by filling his mind with positive thoughts of Nerys: her laughing smile when she caught him flexing in front of the mirror, the brief embrace after the explosion in her office, and the playful banter when she and others came to welcome him to the station.

Chris closes his eyes and smiles as he recalls the features of Kira’s face. Belying his typical memory, he can picture every detail as if she were sitting right in front of him. As good as his mind’s eye for her may be, he can’t wait to see her in person again. She may not feel what he feels, but she is nevertheless his motivation to do all he can to make it back to Deep Space Nine.

Chris jumps when the door slides open.

“Chris? Are you here?” Carl calls out.

“Yeah,” Chris says as he stands, eyes still wide open from the fright. “I figured I’d sit out of sight… just in case.”

Carl nods. “My work is done. The turbolift doors to this deck are sealed, the main Jeffries tubes that lead here are inaccessible, and I’ve prepared an overload that will disable the transporters ship-wide when you’re ready to start.”

“Wow. You’ve been busy.”

Carl nods. “It seems my modified disruptor is quite effective at destroying access panels and fusing manual control levers. I also took the liberty of priming the escape pods. With access to the deck limited, there’s no threat of the launch indicators being spotted. It should save you time.”

“Thanks. I’m pretty nervous, so every bit of help… well… helps.”

Carl looks Chris over. “Are you still feeling up to this?”

“Sure,” Chris says as he tries to stand tall. “It’s scary, but there’s really not much to it. I just run and hit buttons—then hide.”

“My efforts should postpone any interference from the crew, but… you should be prepared for that possibility.”

Chris points to his phaser. “I’ll be sure to have this out as I go.”

Carl holds out his disruptor. “Would you prefer _this_ weapon?”

Chris shies away from it. “I’ve seen what that’ll do to a man. I have _no_ desire to see it again.”

“Very well. I shall take it for further study.”

“Uh, to replicate and use against… _who_ exactly?”

Carl looks at the sinister weapon again, then tosses it to a corner of the room. “Point taken.”

Chris smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, Carl.”

Carl hesitates as they shake hands. “We… _will_ meet again, Chris.”

“Huh?” Chris reacts to Carl’s tone. “I’m not… Geeze, now you sound like Nerys. It’s not like I have a death wish or something. I want to go home. Not home, home… but back to the station. I just know that after this is over, you’ll be off doing… whatever Founders do, and I’ll be back in the Alpha Quadrant. So, I mean it. I’ll miss you.”

“Ah,” Carl smirks. “I understand. I will miss you too, Chris. And… thank you.”

“Me? Thank _you_ for not letting me be a pile of dust in the cargo bay.”

Carl bows his head slightly. “Though your arrival was unintentional, you’ve made it possible to save my people. We owe you a great deal.”

“You said it yourself: I didn’t mean to be here. Don’t go throwing me a party for dumb luck.”

Carl grins. “Get home safe, and good luck with your colonel.”

“Pfft. Thanks, but I don’t think any amount of luck will help me there.”

“You sell yourself short. Don’t give up so quickly. Though, I do believe you should talk to someone about your dreams.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “I have a feeling Ezri won’t give me much of a choice on that.”

Carl nods as he steps over to the transporter controls. “I’ll be beaming myself on a delay. No offense, but there’s more involved when transporting a living being.”

“None taken.”

“See this pulsing button here?”

“Sure.”

“This will trigger the overload I’ve prepared. The malfunction _will_ alert the crew, so you must complete your task and reach your hiding location as quickly as possible. They _will_ reach this deck eventually.”

Chris chews his lip and nods. “Got it.”

“Good,” Carl says as he steps onto the transport pad. “I will talk to you soon. And don’t forget to contact the colonel before you begin.”

“Right,” Chris’ eyes widen momentarily at the reminder of the plan’s sequence. Carl must’ve picked up on his anxious stare at the pulsing button. “Talk to you soon.”

After Carl dematerializes, Chris stares at the empty transporter pad. The sudden isolation hits hard.

_Just me and a bunch of Cardassians now._

Chris wants to tap his combadge so he can hear Kira’s voice, but that would mean giving the signal. His confidence wanes.

In a blatant attempt to delay his run, Chris takes another look at his map PADD. His run follows a U-shaped path along two main hallways with a side corridor between. After he’s done launching pods, he’ll head for an interior conference room. He and Carl chose this room as his primary hiding spot because it contains nothing volatile which could explode while the Defiant is attacking, is home to large pieces of furniture to hide behind, and has multiple doorways to reduce the chance he’ll be cornered if found.

_And… that’s the tenth time I’ve gone over it._

With no excuse to linger further, Chris tucks the PADD back under his waistband. He takes a deep breath and taps his combadge.

“Chris to Defiant.”

“Defiant here. Go ahead, Chris,” Kira responds.

Chris can’t help but smile in response to her voice. “Everything’s loaded. I… I guess I’m ready to start.”

“Are you sure about this, Chris?”

“Hell no; but there’s no other option.”

“I don’t like this plan either,” Kira sighs. “Just… hold tight until we get their attention. I’ll let you know when they drop out of warp. We’ll have you back before you know it.”

“I can’t wait.”

Chris unholsters his phaser and stands by the control panel. Only a few seconds pass before he hears a muted explosion and feels the ship shudder. He never spent much time on boats back home, so the movement of something so seemingly solid is unsettling.

Kira comes over Chris’ combadge immediately after the shake. “We grazed their dorsal shields, Chris. They’ve dropped out of warp and are decloaking. Move quickly; and please… watch yourself in there.”

“I will, Nerys. See you soon.”

Chris taps the button Carl prepped to overload the ship’s transporters. The panel flickers and darkens. With a grin of satisfaction, Chris turns to run from the room.

* * *

“First pod’s away!” Nog reports.

“Double-check your scans,” Kira barks. “The last thing we need is to be responsible for the Founder’s death. Keep up evasive maneuvers, Matthews. Dax, signal Eris that we’ve engaged the cruiser.”

Kira’s heart is pounding. She doesn’t like this plan, but there’s no turning back now. All they can do is dispatch pods while avoiding as much fire as possible.

“Their aim is terrible,” Nog reports. “They haven’t scored a single hit on our shields.”

“Hopefully that means we’re not dealing with experienced soldiers, lieutenant.” After responding to Nog’s observation, Kira briefly shuts her eyes.

_That’s good news for Chris too._

The Defiant continues to destroy book-filled escape pods soon after they’re launched. Kira’s personal count reaches ten before Nog reports the same.

“First group of pods destroyed, sir.”

Kira nods to acknowledge the report. “Way to go, Chris; keep it up,” she mutters quietly.

* * *

While running through the side passage between the main halls, Chris is ecstatic.

_This is a piece of cake!_

The primed launch buttons flash red and protrude from the wall, so they’ve been easy to smack on the run. Turning the corner, Chris is happy to see nothing but another row of flashing buttons. He hits the gas and runs as fast as he dares to still strike them accurately.

It’s after pod seventeen that he sees them.

_Oh shit…_

Two Cardassians step from a doorway near the far end of the hall. They quickly spot Chris and reach for their weapons. Chris, phaser in hand, begins to fire wildly as he runs. There’s a side passage coming up he can use for cover, so he hopes to force them to duck long enough to reach it.

Lowering his phaser to round the corner, the Cardassians’ return fire causes a panel to Chris’ left to explode.

Chris feels an incredible pain in his side as the blast throws him against a wall of the side passage. His head hits hard, and a pain shoots through his leg as he falls to the ground.

* * *

_15… 16… 17…_

Kira’s personal count stops at seventeen.

_Where’s 18?_

“Sir?”

Nog’s question confirms the delay isn’t just a trick of Kira’s brain. “Oh, no,” she says as she grips the arms of her chair and leans forward. “Dax, he might’ve been forced to hide; let’s not give him away.”

“Monitoring his combadge, sir,” Ezri replies.

Kira stands; her voice raises as she gives further commands. “Put the audio on speakers. I want to hear _everything_ going on in there. Nog, life-sign report on Chris.”

“Life-signs are nominal, sir,” Nog answers, “but he stopped moving.”

“I want to know the _second_ anything changes, lieutenant.”

* * *

All Chris can hear is a ringing tone and the racing beat of his heart.

_Son of a bitch!_

Chris grabs at the pain in his side. He feels dampness… and what must be a piece of metal from the exploded panel. Looking at his hand, he sees blood.

_Shit._

His head is throbbing and his vision blurs in one eye. He gingerly reaches for his forehead but winces in pain upon touching it. He looks at his fingertips. More blood.

_Dammit._

Before he can assess his condition further, Chris’ hearing starts to return. He hears the Cardassians’ yells as they charge down the hallway. The déjà vu is terrifying.

_Carl’s not here to save me this time._

Chris frantically looks for the phaser he was holding. When he spots it, he painfully scrambles for the weapon. Still on the ground when he reaches it, Chris readies himself as best he can. He hopes the Cardassians are reckless enough to charge around the corner.

Chris’ luck half pans out as one Cardassian rounds the corner. Being less than six feet away, even Chris’ horrible aim is accurate enough to put the Cardassian down with a quick squeeze of the trigger. He feels victorious as the Cardassian crashes to the ground but, despite the weapon being set to stun, guilt washes over him as well.

* * *

Kira and the bridge crew listen anxiously to the feed from Chris’ combadge, hoping to hear clues as to why he stopped launching escape pods.

It isn’t long before they hear the distinct sound of phaser fire. Kira immediately turns to Nog.

Nog reports before Kira utters a word. “His life-signs have decreased, sir. He could’ve been stunned, or… or he sustained an injury. I can’t tell.”

“Timms,” Kira commands, “take over monitoring Chris’ life-signs. Nog, start working on their shields. Eris can yell at me for endangering the Founder later.”

“Aye, sir,” both respond.

* * *

Chris waits for a few seconds, but the other Cardassian never appears.

_I can’t play the waiting game; this bleeding looks bad. There’s three more pods to launch, and Carl’s in one of them._

Chris tries to get up, but extreme pain shoots through his leg as he tries to move it.

_Dammit._

Chris spies a handhold on the wall. Before he grabs it, he fires a couple of shots near the corner to make the Cardassian think twice about poking his head around. As Chris reaches for the wall, the Cardassian starts to yell.

“What are you doing?! The Dominion must pay for what they did to Cardassia—what they did to the entire Alpha Quadrant!”

Chris is happy to hear the Cardassian yelling as it means he’s not about to pop around the corner while he struggles to his feet. He doesn’t want to broadcast his injuries, so Chris clenches his teeth hard and grunts as he lifts himself, stifling what would’ve otherwise been a loud scream of pain.

With most of his weight on his uninjured leg, Chris readies his phaser and hobbles to the corner.

_I have to get through this guy to get to Carl._

* * *

Kira hears rustling sounds, panicked breathing, and more phaser fire. Soon after, they hear the voice of what must be one of the Cardassian crew.

_You don’t yell at a dead man… Chris must be OK._

The next sound she hears is an extremely pained grunt that could only have come from Chris.

_Shit… Chris is_ not _OK._

“Timms? Report!”

“His life-signs are irregular, sir,” the young ensign responds. “I… I think he’s hurt.”

Kira feels helpless. If the enemy had communications equipment on board, she’d demand their surrender or threaten them with destruction to allow the Defiant to beam Chris to safety. She knows that’s impossible, so she closes her eyes and clenches her jaw.

_I_ knew _this was a bad idea!_

* * *

Leading with his phaser, Chris limps to the corner as quietly as he can. He knows there’s a Cardassian lying in wait. After a deep breath, Chris peeks around. Instead of an imposing soldier he’d expect from his TV show memories, he finds a Cardassian clutching his weapon and shaking.

_He reminds me of me._

“You’re not a soldier, are you,” Chris observes.

The Cardassian shakes his head.

“Neither am I,” Chris says as he winces in pain. “Don’t worry; I’ve never killed anyone. I’m not about to start today.”

“But… you just…”

“Set to stun,” Chris nods to his weapon. “Whatever they may’ve done during the war, we can’t let you kill the Founders. Have you really thought about what would happen if you succeed? The Founders may lead the Dominion, but they’re not its muscle. Dominion forces would lash out at _everyone_ —especially Cardassia.”

The Cardassian blinks and swallows hard as he considers Chris’ words.

“Now…” Chris grunts and continues. “I’ve got three more buttons to push over there, and I can’t have you shooting me in the back with that nasty gun of yours.” Chris points his phaser at the man’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

The Cardassian stands tall and nods. “I understand."

Chris squeezes the trigger. The stunned Cardassian crumples to the ground. Chris frowns at the seemingly lifeless form, then hobbles across the hall to the remaining launch controls.

* * *

Kira’s relief at hearing Chris speak is monumental. Listening to his merciful exchange with the Cardassian, she holds a fist against her lips and closes her eyes.

Kira drops her hand and smiles cautiously when Nog reports the launch of pod eighteen, and more confidently after the next.

_You’re going to make it, Chris._

“Sir!” Timms calls out. “His life-signs are falling!”

Kira’s eyes open wide. “What happened?!”

“I… I don’t know. They just started dropping.”

“Our last pass hit them pretty hard, sir,” Nog reports, “but no internal explosions were detected.”

“How close are we on those shields?”

“Their primary shields are still at thirty-four percent.”

“Dammit,” Kira mutters. “Keep at it, lieutenant. I want him out of there as soon as possible.”

Kira’s hands ball into fists on the arms of her chair.

* * *

Chris cracks a smile after launching the last book-filled pod. The threat to the Founders is gone.

_Yes!_

Chris’ brief loss of focus proves costly. The Defiant’s attacks have been rocking the ship; he relaxes his grip on the bulkhead at a very bad time. The list of the ship puts too much weight on his injured leg and he falls. He lands squarely on the piece of metal protruding from his side. The pain is incredible and the bleeding increases. Chris tries to get back up. He grunts in pain and frustration as his attempts fail.

_Just one more to go… Carl’s in there._

Chris starts to crawl. The ship rocks again and he slips on the blood-soaked floor, sending him prone once more. He whimpers from the pain.

Chris ditches his phaser and pushes himself back up to a crawl.

_Almost there…_

When Chris arrives at the last button, he can’t reach it from his low position. His fully stretched arm is still a couple inches shy. He tries to lift himself on his good knee, but he can’t muster the strength. He starts to see stars after the attempt.

_Dammit._

Chris remembers his PADD. He slides it out of his waistband and starts swinging wildly at the button. After several desperate tries, he finally connects with enough force to send the pod on its way.

Chris grins and collapses to the floor. “Goodbye, Carl.”

The stars intensify and the hallway darkens. Chris fights to stay awake, but unconsciousness claims him.

* * *

Eris of the Dominion arrives with her cavalry: five Jem’Hadar attack ships and a battleship.

“Eris to Defiant, what’s the situation?”

Kira finds it hard to switch her focus from Chris’ combadge audio to the face on the screen. Every grunt and whimper has been difficult to hear.

Distraught, Kira finally looks to the monitor. “Chris ran into trouble, we’ve already begun firing on the cruiser.”

“Has the Founder been recovered?”

“Not yet. His is the only pod that hasn’t launched. We’re concerned about Chris’ condition at this point. He’s sustained serious injury.”

Eris mutters something angrily under her breath. “Apologies, colonel, but we shouldn’t’ve trusted a tactical exercise to a civilian. He should be commended for removing the threat to the Great Link, but our focus should turn to the Founder.”

“Don’t you _dare_ write him off,” Kira practically screams. “He’s all I’ve got, dammit!”

Eris blinks and recoils from the viewer, which forces Kira to reflect on her outburst.

_What did I just say?_

Before the women’s conversation can resume, Nog gives and excited report. “Final pod away, sir!”

Eris nods to Kira with a cautious eye. “ _We_ will collect the Founder. Our ships will commence attacks on the enemy’s shields. Perhaps we can still…”

Timms nervously interrupts. “Sir… his life-signs… they’re critical.”

Kira turns to the ensign with a panicked stare. Before she can ask for a more detailed report, Chris’ voice comes over the comms.

“Goodbye, Carl.”

Kira is mortified at how weak and final his words sound. “Channel!” she yells with only a quick glance in Ezri’s direction.

“Channel open.”

“Kira to Chris!”

Chris doesn’t respond.

“Answer me, Chris!”

There is still no response.

Kira slams a fist on her armrest. “I want those shields down _now_!”


	25. Broken Pieces

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Broken Pieces**

The threat to the Founders is gone and Carl has been recovered but, after two more pleading requests for a response go unanswered, Chris’ condition remains unknown. The Defiant’s sensors suggest he’s alive, but critical life-signs and unresponsiveness prove troubling. Kira’s frustration boils over.

“Dax!” Kira yells. “Have Eris focus all fire on their starboard shields!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Matthews, _screw_ evasive maneuvers; give tactical as much time as possible on our next pass!”

Matthews responds with a wide-eyed nod. “Aye, sir.”

“Lieutenant!” Kira points to Nog. “Give it everything she’s got!”

“Dax!” Kira turns back to Ezri. “The moment those shields go down, beam him _directly_ to sickbay!”

“Sir… Julian’s back on the station.”

Kira doesn’t even blink. “We better as hell have _someone_! I’ll go down there _myself_ if I have to!”

* * *

With an aggressive strafe by the Defiant and additional fire from five Jem’Hadar attack ships, the Cardassian cruiser’s starboard shields quickly collapse.

“They got shaken up, sir,” Nog states, “but their hull integrity’s holding.”

“Thank the Prophets.” Kira shakes her head in a rare praise of Cardassian ship design.

“Sickbay has him, sir,” Ezri reports.

Kira snaps her eyes to the lieutenant. “Status?”

“They didn’t say, but… they’re working on him, so…” Ezri trails off as she decides not to presume further.

Kira closes her eyes and huffs at the fact that “not dead” is all she’s going to get. Her first impulse is to order the swift destruction of the cruiser. She opens her mouth to give the order to fire torpedoes when she recalls Chris’ act of mercy. Despite her anger, she can’t bring herself to kill the men he deliberately spared.

“Beam the crew to the brig. Tell Eris to blow that thing to hell.”

“But, sir,” Ezri says. “Our brig can only hold two… maybe three people.”

Kira huffs loudly. “Fine! Grab the two nearest Chris’ last location. Let the Dominion deal with the rest. If Chris doesn’t pull through, I’m going to personally kick the living _shit_ out of whoever we’ve got.”

Kira stands and storms to the door. Almost as an afterthought, she waves her hand at the captain’s chair. “She’s yours, Dax.”

Ezri moves slowly to the captain’s chair. She watches after her friend until the bridge door blocks her view. She knows Kira is mad, but she also seems scared. Ezri gets the impression Chris means more to Kira than she wants to admit.

* * *

During her sprint, and one painfully slow turbolift trip down one deck, all Kira can think about is how upset she is that Bashir isn’t on board. When she bursts into the Defiant’s small sickbay, she thanks the Prophets that Julian sent two of his medical staff in his place. The Defiant departed the station in such a hurry, she half expected to find Chris being tended to by another inexperienced ensign.

Chris is lying on the sickbay’s single surgical bed. Kira’s cursory glances reveal a gash on his forehead, a nasty wound on his left side, and scissor-cut pants that suggest an injury to his right leg. There’s a lot of blood, and the sight affects her more than she expected.

“How is he?” Kira asks anxiously.

“We’re still assessing his condition, sir. He’s unconscious. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Do everything you have to. Get Bashir on subspace if you need help.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kira puts one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead as she watches intently. She’s seen a fair share of battlefield injuries and death in her lifetime, but it doesn’t often tear at her heart like what she’s witnessing now.

_Is it because I’ve failed the Prophets?_

Kira runs her hand through her hair and holds the back of her neck as she looks to the floor.

_Did he grow on me that much?_

Looking up to see a large piece of metal being pulled from Chris’ side, Kira’s hand slides forward to cover her gaping mouth as her eyes react to the sight. She quickly looks away, turning to the monitors showing Chris’ vitals. She’s no doctor, but they don’t look good.

Watching frantic activity to close the wound, Kira doesn’t hear the door open behind her. A familiar voice catches her off guard.

“Nerys?”

“Odo?” Kira spins around in shock to find Odo standing there. “Odo!” Kira moves quickly to embrace him. After a moment, she takes a half-step back to wipe her eyes. “How… how are you here?”

Odo raises an eyebrow to compliment a pleasant grin. “A Vorta contacted me. She informed me of an _unbelievable_ Cardassian plot against my people. She wanted my opinion of some _crazy_ rescue plan. I thought she’d gone mad… until she told me _you_ were involved. I simply _had_ to come.”

“That was you?” Kira smiles at Odo in disbelief. “She didn’t tell me she’d spoken to _you_.”

“I explicitly told her _not_ to,” Odo smiles. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I couldn’t see you, and… I thought it’d be a pleasant surprise if I could.”

Kira smiles and blinks. “A _wonderful_ surprise, I…”

A clanging sound and foul utterance pulls their attention to the surgical bed.

“What happened?!” Kira asks in a panic, suddenly reminded of the frenzied battle taking place nearby.

“Nothing, sir. I just dropped something, sir,” one of the women quickly responds.

“Oh, Prophets, I almost…” Kira laments, guilty at how completely Odo had consumed her attention.

Odo looks over the injured man. “Is that Chris?”

“Yes, but…” Kira looks back to Odo. “How’d you know?”

“I linked with… Carl.” Odo rolls his eyes at the name. “No changeling native to the Great Link has _ever_ taken a name. He plans to keep it.” Odo scoffs.

Kira turns to the man on the table. “I think Chris will be happy to hear that. I think they became friends on that ship.”

Knowing her too well, Odo picks up on something in her tone. “What’s on your mind, Nerys?”

Kira turns to face Odo, but stares at his chest as she runs her fingers down it. “If you linked with the Founder then… you know how Chris feels about me.”

Odo nods. “He cares about you very much.”

Kira keeps her chin tucked but looks up with her eyes. “He does… but you know that doesn’t mean that I…”

“That you what?” Odo dips his head to the side to better look her in the eye. “That you care about him too?”

“I do, but I don’t…” Kira shakes her head. “I love _you_ , Odo. I’ve missed you so much.”

Odo hugs Kira and presses her head to his shoulder. “I miss you too, Nerys. I miss you terribly, but my people still need me. What I’m doing…”

“We’re losing him!” one of the medical staff cries out. “Hand me the cardiostimulator!”

Kira pulls her head from Odo’s chest to get a better view of what’s happening.

“Nerys, I…” Odo says softly into the ear that’s turned towards him. “I can’t stay.”

“What?” Kira turns back to him instantly. “You just got here! We have so much to talk about! We…”

“Nerys,” Odo sighs. “We’ve said our goodbyes. I thought we both understood that, but…”

“I did…” Kira swallows hard, “but at some point it stopped making sense. I just… want you back.”

“I’ve got a pulse again,” one of the women says, “but it’s weak.”

“There’s still a great deal of internal bleeding,” the other woman says. “Hand me a vascular regenerator.”

Kira is having trouble deciding where to look. Odo is reiterating a painful goodbye, and the medical team is struggling to keep Chris alive.

“I’m sorry, Nerys,” Odo frowns. “What I’m doing for my people is important. Don’t you see? That man, right there, is proof that it’s working.”

Kira answers without turning from the surgical bed. “I don’t understand.”

“A _solid_ , Nerys. A solid from the Alpha Quadrant and a Founder from the Great Link… worked together. They became friends. That’s… incredible.”

“They _had_ to…” Kira looks to Odo in confusion. “That doesn’t prove _anything_.”

“I know Carl’s thoughts. If this had been months ago… Chris wouldn’t have made it this far. Carl would have killed him for his combadge without a second thought.”

Kira drops her jaw and wrinkles her brow at Odo’s horrifying assertion.

“I can see it, Nerys,” Odo grins. “You _do_ care for him.”

Kira takes in a sharp breath and widens her eyes. “No! I…”

“It’s OK; I’m glad for it. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“But I don’t… It’s not _like_ that.”

“Isn’t it?” Odo tilts his head and smiles. “I happen to know you’re not always aware of your own feelings.”

Kira furrows her brow and sighs. She doesn’t agree with Odo’s assessment. With him, they were friends for so long and the change was so gradual—she can’t really say when her feelings truly changed or why it took so long for her to realize it. She’s only known Chris for two days, but… she doesn’t want to argue.

Activity around the surgical bed steals Kira’s focus again.

“Dammit,” one of the medical staff mutters. “His BP’s still not rising. Did we miss something?”

“I’m looking, but I’m not…” the other replies while bent over Chris. “OK, I’ve got something. I need the vascular regenerator again.”

Odo puts his arms around Kira. “I hope you get the chance to find out.”

The commotion at the surgical bed derailed Kira’s thoughts. “Find out what?”

“Which of us is right, of course,” Odo smiles. “And… how much he cares about you. I’ve never met him but… with what I learned from Carl, I have a feeling he’ll do whatever’s necessary to make you happy.”

“Right now, he just needs to not die. I think you’re wrong, but I can’t lose you both in this room.”

“I should go,” Odo closes his eyes and bows his head. “ _However_ you feel, your attention belongs over there.”

Kira nods. “Can we… keep in touch?”

“I don’t think that would be fair to anyone. You know I love you, but I can’t be by your side.”

Kira purses her lips and nods again. Before Odo can turn to leave, she pulls him close for a kiss.

“I love you Odo. I always will.”

“I know, Nerys,” Odo steps back before letting go of her hands. “Goodbye, my love.”

Odo takes another glance at Chris with a worried frown, then looks to Kira with an apologetic smile before walking out of sickbay. Kira watches after Odo until the doors close, then stares at the doors a few moments longer. She does her best to compose herself before turning to ask the medical team for an update. When she does, she finds them already waiting to give her a report.

“Sir, we’ve done all we can with what we have. The Defiant’s sickbay was designed for triage; it just isn’t equipped to handle this level of trauma. He’s very weak, so we’ve put him in a stasis field to stabilize him. We’ll monitor him closely until we’re back to the station. Doctor Bashir can take it from there if the patient…”

The sudden fire in Kira’s eyes stops the woman short. It’s very clear she doesn’t want to hear the word “if” right now.

The woman blinks to the floor. “He’s… going to be out for a while, sir. I’ll send a report to Doctor Bashir so he can be ready to receive him and do what else he can. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you,” Kira says before taking a deep breath.

As the women clear their instruments from the area, Kira approaches the table. She wants to take hold of Chris’ hand, to feel warmth and a pulse to counter his lifeless expression, but the shimmer of the stasis field lets her know that’s not possible. She settles for the bio-monitor’s indication that he’s stable.

Kira sniffles and wipes her eyes, upset at Odo’s departure. She thinks Odo is silly to think she cares for this man as he cares for her, but right now… she could really use someone to hold. She looks at Chris’ face, wondering how it is that he’s fallen for her so completely.

_I’ve been a terrible host. I’ve not even been the most kind. I let…_ this _happen. What is it you see?_

Kira scoffs at herself and wipes her eye. She takes a long breath and reminds herself that, whatever she may think or feel, this man saved her life… and helped save Odo’s.

“Thank you, Chris. I’ll see you soon.”

Kira lifts herself up to sit on one of the examination beds to watch over Chris. After a few moments of reflection, Kira taps her combadge.

“Kira to Dax.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take us home.”

* * *

Standing in the breezeway, Chris stares at the door of his Martin Street apartment. Light from the low, evening sun shines on the brassy characters: 3C. He cocks his head as he reaches out and touches them, amazed at how real they feel.

“Well, go on,” Julian says impatiently. “The suspense is killing me!”

Chris turns his head in time to witness Ezri giving Julian a playful elbow to the side, but it’s Kira’s smile that steals his attention. She’s a beautiful woman, and her smile makes her purely breathtaking.

Chris extends a hand to her as he opens the door. He smiles when she accepts it and allows him to lead her inside. Ezri and Julian follow closely behind.

Everyone looks around the small apartment in wonder. As they do, Chris grins as he focuses on the others’ expressions—especially Kira’s.

“I have to say, it’s quite… cozy,” Julian says, scrambling for a positive word.

Chris chuckles. “It _is_ cozy, isn’t it,” he says without the sarcasm he would’ve used just a week before.

“I think it’s perfect,” Kira says, looking at Chris with a smile.

“Absolutely charming,” Ezri adds.

“Well…” Chris says while rubbing his hands together. “The seating is a bit limited so… how about you two,” he gestures to Ezri and Julian, “share the recliner. _It’s_ cozy as well. Nerys and I can take the couch.”

Julian sits in the plush recliner and smiles as he sinks in. It seems he’s found something about Chris’ old home that he’s fond of. He lets out an ‘oomph’ as Ezri plops sideways on his lap with a giggle.

Chris leads Kira to the couch and offers her a seat. He holds her hand and looks in her eyes with a poorly contained smile as she accepts. She rolls her eyes and blushes at the purposeful stare.

Releasing her hand, Chris trots to the kitchen counter of the small, open floor plan apartment. He fetches a tray holding two large bowls of popcorn and four sodas—all included in this custom holosuite program. The smell of fresh popcorn has just begun to waft into the rest of the apartment.

“Oh my goodness! That smells wonderful!” Ezri says as her eyes seek the source.

“You just aren’t watching a movie if you aren’t eating popcorn,” Chris says with a smile.

“Popcorn?” Julian raises an eyebrow. “I think Nog’s mentioned eating popcorn while watching television with Vic. I’ve been eager to try it.”

Kira looks over at Julian. “You mean to tell me… you’ve known what television was this whole time?”

“You never asked,” Julian replies while Ezri nods.

“You too?!” Kira scoffs at Ezri.

As Chris hands the first bowl of popcorn to Kira, she takes a handful and throws it at the couple in the recliner. They all laugh as the pair is pelted with buttery kernels.

Chris hands out the rest of the refreshments and takes a seat next to Kira. He makes a conscious effort not to sit as close as he’d truly like. He’s thrilled she agreed to join him for this ‘movie date’ at all, so he doesn’t want to push his luck. Chris had considered making this date for just the two of them but he worried it would feel too awkward. When he made the mistake of asking Ezri about it, the matter was settled.

Chris picks up a remote from the coffee table to queue up the movie.

“So, Chris,” Julian asks. “What do we have the pleasure of watching this evening?”

“It’s called Guardians of the Galaxy. I _love_ this movie.”

“What’s the synopsis?”

“Let’s see… A man is abducted from his home and taken to a fantastic reality filled with spaceships and aliens… where he plays a part in saving the galaxy from an evil plot.”

“Hmm, now why on _Earth_ would you select a movie like that?” Julian quips.

“Oh, Julian, I think he’s kidding. That sounds too much like…” Ezri’s words trail off as Chris slowly shakes his head to indicate he’s not kidding.

“Shush, so we can watch this thing,” Kira scolds with a smile. “I’m feeling quite deprived around all of you television know-it-alls.” She nudges Chris as a signal to get the show started.

Chris looks around the room at his new friends, lingering on a woman he loves immensely.

_This is the happiest moment of my life._

As the movie starts, Chris can’t wipe the grin from of his face as he watches Kira more than the television. Though she’s watching the screen, she takes quick glances out of the corner of her eye and eventually turns to face him directly.

“What’s with you and that silly grin?” she asks.

“I love you, Nerys,” Chris says matter-of-factly.

The corner of her mouth turns upward as she places a kernel of popcorn in her mouth and turns back to the screen. “I know,” she says with a subtle shrug.

She didn’t scoff. She didn’t roll her eyes. She smiled. Chris smiles wide as he interprets her reaction to mean that perhaps… one day she’ll say: “I love you too.”

* * *

Part-way through the movie, Chris hears Julian appear to lose interest.

“A talking raccoon and bipedal flora? This is absolutely ridiculous.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris sees Ezri elbow him gently and shush him, pointing to the couch with a jerk of her head.

Chris and Kira have moved closer together. Kira’s head is resting on his shoulder, and Chris has an arm behind hers. Both wear contented smiles.

Chris’ smile widens as he hears Ezri comment. “Isn’t it adorable?”

Julian rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the show.

Chris sets their empty popcorn bowl to the side and cautiously reaches over to take Kira’s hand in his. He beams when she squeezes his in return.

* * *

After the movie ends and the four leave the holosuite, Chris and Kira say their goodnights to Julian and Ezri. Chris is happy that his quarters are close to Kira’s as it means this wonderful experience isn’t over just yet.

Not seated beside her anymore, Chris doesn’t make an effort to take her hand. To his surprise, she picks up on his glances, halves the distance between them, and takes a hold of _his_ hand. Chris doesn’t say a word; he simply looks at her and smiles.

The pair walk quietly through the halls, sharing only smiles and occasional glances. Once they reach Kira’s door, she releases Chris’ hand to open it and step inside. She turns around to face him.

“Nerys,” Chris says timidly. “Thanks for indulging me tonight. I really enjoyed it; I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Kira shakes her head to dismiss the notion. “I had a wonderful time, Chris. We should do it again sometime.”

Chris smiles. “Absolutely! There’s so much more I’d love to share with you.”

Kira smiles and nods. “I’d like that.”

Chris takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say next. After an awkward pause, he lets out a pleasant sigh. “Good night, Nerys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chris turns to walk down the hall.

“Chris?”

Chris stops before taking a full step and turns back to face Nerys. “Yes?”

“Stay with me tonight?”

Chris can’t believe his ears. His eyebrows rise and his pulse quickens. He’s completely frozen in the hallway.

Kira laughs and takes Chris’ hand. “Get in here before I change my mind.” She gently pulls him through the doorway.

Still in shock, Chris stares into Kira’s vast eyes. The smirk on her face makes his chest swell. He’s simultaneously ecstatic and hesitant. He takes a small step forward.

Kira’s smile widens as Chris inches closer.

Chris’ confidence builds as his advance is met with an eager smile. Soon he stands toe-to-toe with the woman he loves.

Kira says nothing as she searches Chris’ eyes.

As the door slides closed, Chris slowly wraps his arms around Nerys to pull her close. He very cautiously leans forward to press his lips to hers.

Much to Chris’ pleasure, Nerys returns the embrace… and passionately kisses him back.

THE END

* * *

A/N

Cheesy self-indulgence moment: If this were a movie, Evanescence’s “Bring me to life” would fade in at the line “Still in shock…” and play through the credits while silhouettes make love in darkened quarters.

I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading,

Craig


End file.
